William liked knowing Matilda was far from the servants. He wasn’t at all worried about any gossip they stirred up. If there was talk about his sudden marriage, the scandal would blow over soon enough.
One only had to look at Matilda now, or when she was properly dressed, to see her appeal. He had the luxury of not caring that such a choice was unpopular since it was to be as brief a marriage as possible. He had Rutherford’s support, and that meant his sisters would not suffer any slights during the season. He was content with his and Matilda’s chaste arrangement, especially since the alternative was being followed by Miss Chudleigh. Matilda did not chase him at all.
“I would have you grow used to me touching you, seeing you uncovered like I have this morning. I did not like the way you held the bedsheet to your chest as if I were about to impose on you. I assure you I will not try to steal your virtue, but I would like to dress you each day in place of a maid.”
“You startled me this morning.” She licked her lips. “I had not expected to see you when I woke.”
“You will see me every morning now.” He nodded, deciding to deny himself such a simple pleasure no longer. He would break her of her hesitation eventually, allowing her time to come to terms with his presence and her place in his life. “I will dress you, and we will take breakfast together.”
“And at night?”
“We will share the same bed from tonight. We can discuss our day and fall asleep together, side by side,” he told her, tipping his head to the side as she worried at her lip. “We have done that before, many a night in fact, during my recovery.”
“Except that I did all the talking. You never said a word even when you could.” She pointed her finger at him and then attempted to hide the gesture behind her back. “I only fell asleep near you a few nights by accident.”
“I did not mind. I have missed your reading to me though.” He grinned. “The chaise was acceptable for the first nights of our marriage but no longer. Agreed?”
“Yes, William.”
He smiled widely at hearing his name, but he noted she’d dropped her toast to her plate while they conversed. “Eat. We have errands to run today.”
She picked up her toast again but spoke before taking a bite. “What sort of errands?”
He supposed he’d have to grow used to explaining everything in detail. One of the facets of marriage every man must accept if he wished for a congenial home life. “My grandfather has offered a town carriage for our use this season. I will, of course, order one bespoke, but until that task can be completed, we will make do with one of the Newberry conveyances on loan.”
She paled a little. “If you think that best.”
William leaned his head on his hand, cradling his scarred cheek in his palm. “I expect you to answer me immed
iately Matilda, but if you agree with everything I say then our conversations will grow dreadfully dull before too long.”
She glanced away, frowning. “Do you really need a town carriage?”
“We need one, yes,” he corrected her. “The carriage in question will be on loan from Newberry House and is largely used by my cousin Sally when she is in Town. Since Sally remains at Newberry Park with her new husband, it has been offered to us until we can acquire our own. I have a larger landau, but it is better used for long journeys rather than the tight confines of London’s streets. I never got around to purchasing a smaller carriage for myself. I’ve hardly been ashore long enough to need one before and have most often hailed a hack for short journeys about Town.”
“That is very sensible.”
“I will not allow you to hail a hack,” he said in case she ever entertained the idea. “You will have your own carriage and the protection of our staff whenever you go out.”
“I see.” She swallowed. “You come from a large family.”
“I do.” He smiled. “Does the idea of meeting all of them worry you? Don’t let it. They are not unkind people, but I did choose to live four blocks away from everyone quite deliberately. They are loud and often meddlesome. I am sure you will come to agree with me by the time of our separation.”
“You do not like a fuss,” she whispered, eyes dropping to her lap.
“Obviously. I prefer a quiet life,” he reminded her. He sipped his tea and finished his toast. “If the war has taught me anything, it is to cling to the familiar and value what I have. Peace, routine, and all the comforts my wealth can provide for us. I used to keep dogs as a boy. Do you care for them?”
“I had a black spaniel until I was fourteen,” she confessed. “Blackie. I was terribly unimaginative as a child to name him so.”
Her nose wrinkled, and he studied her warmer expression with approval. “I probably should confess to having been an equally unimaginative child. I had a terrier. I called him Blackie as well.” He frowned, recalling that long-dead pet and his sadness at being told it had been shot by mistake by a guest at Newberry Park. He shook his head. How long ago must that have been?
Matilda gazed at him with sparkling eyes and then leaned forward, at last appearing to forget she was sitting down to breakfast in her unmentionables, to touch his arm. “How clever of us to have picked the same name!”
A little thrill swept through him. That was the first time Matilda had referred to them as a couple, and he liked the sound on her lips. He also liked that she’d reached for him. It was the first time since their marriage. The first time even since he’d left his sick bed.
Since Matilda appeared disinterested in eating, William took her hand and raised her from her chair, then returned her to the center of the room where she could see her reflection well. He collected her new gown, a soft green muslin with yellow flowers embroidered at the neck, sleeves and hem, and buttoned her up in it. Even though the gown was of a modest design, dressing her aroused him enough that his cock swelled inside his breaches.
Only the faintest hitch in Matilda’s breathing suggested she’d noticed his state, but he ignored his condition and her reaction.