An Affair of Honor (Rebel Hearts 2)

She chose her words with care. “As I said, I have nothing to compare your kiss to. You should kiss someone else next.”

“I might, but would I enjoy it as much, my Mattie?”

She flinched hearing the name again. Her mother had called her that. It was the only thing she could remember about the woman who’d given birth to her. “Please kiss someone else next.”

He studied her a long time, eyes dark and blazing with strong emotion. Matilda trembled with anticipation for his next decision. Had she displeased him enough to be punished, or would he allow her to maintain the distance between them? He’d promised not to take her virtue, so he should save his kisses for his real wife. He should kiss the woman he could give his heart to.

That wasn’t going to be Matilda. He nodded, a sharp dip of his head. “I’ll consider it.”

He turned on his heel and left, slamming the dressing room door closed behind him. He did not lock it, but Matilda knew better than to follow him in. Trust and distance had become the currency of her life with William Ford.

That was why she’d felt safe enough to allow that one favor, because deep down she knew he would stop if she asked him to. But if she was stripped of her clothing and then climbed into bed with him afterward, she would have to contend with the change between them, and she wasn’t sure what her response to him would be.

That feeling William had roused in her body last year, when he’d spanked her and touched her intimate places, had returned.

She turned toward the drawing room chaise, sank down onto it, and then curled over on her side, clutching William’s discarded coat for a pillow. She ached between her legs, a sure sign she was not in her right mind around him.

She desired her husband to touch her there again.

She should not encourage that unless she was prepared for what might follow.

A little time apart was probably a good idea after kissing him. She would sleep here in the drawing room so he did not imagine she’d encourage further advances. She had agreed to be his temporary wife, not his temporary lover. She shouldn’t encourage more between them than an affair of short duration.

She rubbed her cheek against the rich fabric of his coat, more than a little disconcerted by her longing for William’s touch. He was a pleasant husband, except when he was spanking her. And even those times were not quite the deterrent to comfort that they should have been. Any more kisses from him like that and she was sure she was asking for trouble. She was already in too deep as it was.

Marrying William had given her a great deal to think about. She could grow accustomed to the finer things in life, but she would eventually have to move away from London to where no one knew her past with him.

How she would live after their separation, live alone with only her own company, concerned her. She was often lonely in this house, but to her surprise she was never unhappy when William had his hands on her.

Twelve

Another night, another round of appearances to cement the belief in his happy marriage, which it surely was not since they had spent last night apart. At dawn William had woken to find himself alone in their bed, and he’d been furious with himself ever since. That Matilda had spent the night in the drawing room with only his coat for a pillow had made him ashamed that his disappointment had gotten the best of him.

He’d carried her to their bed, tucked her in without waking her, and quietly left to remove the evidence of her temporary sleeping arrangement before a servant discovered they’d fought—if he could call his childish snit any sort of argument.

Matilda had slept for most of the day and kept her own company once she’d risen. William was still trying to decide whether he should apologize for the bad kiss or not, but he had accepted he wouldn’t try to kiss her again anytime soon.

He didn’t like the way she looked at him so warily now.

William escorted Matilda into the Hamersley ballroom, feeling just a little unsettled by the tension between them and the loud crowd. He held tight to Matilda’s elbow as the noise of the ball washed over him, attempting to guide her through the throng. The walls seemed closer than usual, the colors and sounds brighter. Harsher. It was a crush, but he should be used to large gatherings. He’d enjoyed a very active social life during his shore leave and recognized many faces he knew well.

Lord Deacon appeared before him suddenly, almost out of thin air, grinning from ear to ear and laughing. “By the devil, if it isn’t itty-bitty Billy Ford. How good to see you again.”

That bloody nickname! Gods, he’d hated Deacon for that. He ground his teeth as he held out his hand, determined not to show his annoyance.

They shook hands, and Deacon stared at his face. “Damn, but that’s a horrific scar.”

“It is.” He turned his face slightly to show it, and for the first time he was glad to address the worst of his alteration. Deacon might be a bull in a china shop when it came to diplomacy, but he was always honest. William’s appearance caused everyone he met to pause, but few came right out and mentioned the change in his face. “But as a beautiful woman once insisted, better disfigured than dead. So here I am.”

Matilda shuddered, and he patted her hand in an attempt to soothe her. Her remark as he’d lay dying had been the turning point. Ther

e were good reasons to fight for his life, one of them stood at his side.

“And that’s a very good thing too. I would have missed you.” Deacon clapped him hard on the shoulder, and then his gaze shifted to Matilda, brows rising in expectation. His expression conveyed his appreciation of his view—Matilda’s quiet beauty never failed to turn heads, much to William’s annoyance. “So this is the woman who tamed you? I had heard the rumors of the marriage but could not believe it until now. Introduce us, you oaf.”

He unclenched his teeth. “Matilda, darling, this is Thomas Bastrum, Earl of Deacon. We roughhoused as children on his estate and in Essex, but unfortunately he hasn’t grown up enough to learn some manners yet.”

Deacon bowed deeply to Matilda. “Don’t listen to a word he says. He’s just jealous that now there’s no question who’s the better looking gentleman of the pair of us.”