What You Promised (Anything for Love 4)

For nigh on twenty years, Matthew’s family had branded him a liar. He knew what he’d seen that day in the forest. But it was easier to forsake a small boy than ruin reputations. Consequently, Priscilla had no idea what hearing the truth meant to him.

Matthew shook the memory away, forced himself to concentrate on the woman before him.

“Vain is the last word I would use to describe you,” he said as an unexpected feeling of admiration filled his chest. “So I am curious to know what prompted you to come downstairs last night. What prompted you to dress in such a way as to secure every man’s attention?”

There was a brief silence as she nibbled her bottom lip and her chest rose and fell rapidly. It took tremendous strength of character to be candid. Would she falter?

“My only objective was to secure your attention.” From her firm jaw, he knew the words had been difficult to say. “I have no interest in any other man.”

“Then you must know you succeeded.”

Despite pursing her lips, she could not hide the glimmer of satisfaction. “I hoped as much.”

“Then why lock the connecting door between our rooms? Surely you knew I would visit you in your chamber.”

Silence ensued.

“Be honest with me,” he persisted.

“It will be difficult for you to understand. I do not think or feel the same way you do. I struggle to separate the physical and emotional.” From the way she moistened her lips, he knew she wanted him, even now. But she stepped back towards the door. “I need more time to harden my heart. It would be foolish to fall in love with you.”

“Why?” His instant reply confused even him. They were the last words he wanted to hear from anyone’s lips.

A frown marred her brow. “Can you imagine what it would be like to love someone, to give everything of yourself and know those feelings will never be returned?” With a little shake of the head, her hand settled on the door knob. “As your wife, I will welcome you into my bed, Matthew. But I ask that you be patient with me. I like you. I enjoy your company and hope you can learn to like me equally.”

Well, he’d asked for honesty, and she’d given it to him.

The problem was he didn’t know what to make of it. What had he expected? Did he want her to see the act as merely a job, her duty? Did he think a woman brimming with virtue would lie with him like a whore each night?

“I shall leave you to your breakfast.” She was already halfway out of the door. “I’m to meet Isabella at noon. She is visiting the modiste and requires my opinion on her new wardrobe. Afterwards, I may call on my aunt to see how she fares.”

He nodded, his mind still somewhat jumbled. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“If I said yes would we be dining together?”

“Of course.” He had to go out later in the evening though it would be the last time he visited the gaming hells. After two weeks spent investigating the methods the sharps used to deceive their opponents, he had almost cracked the codes.

“Then I shall see you this evening.” She slipped out into the hall and closed the door.

Minutes passed before he moved.

For days he’d imagined settling between his wife’s cushioned thighs and thrusting home. The thought kept him in a constant state of semi-arousal. The irony of their situation was that he’d needed time to adjust too. He did not want to feel any attachment; he did not want to feel anything other than lust. Most men in his situation would bed her, regardless. The women he’d had in the past always appreciated his skill for giving pleasure. Just because Priscilla was his wife why should it be any different?

But then realisation dawned.

The truth knocked him back like a kick to the gut. His obsession with honesty was the problem. Other women had wanted nothing but his cock. He’d wanted nothing but to satisfy an urge. There had been no expectations, just an honest arrangement.

But things were different now.

Priscilla needed more than the use of his body. His disdain for lies and falsehoods would make him a hypocrite if he tried to ignore her wishes.

Damnation. It was all a bloody mess. His time would be better spent plotting revenge on the card-sharps than fantasising about bedding his wife.

Chapter 11

The instruction to meet Matthew for a pre-dinner drink in the drawing room took Priscilla by surprise. After revealing she was in danger of falling in love, his desire to spend more time together was the last thing she expected.

Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed at the half-open door. Matthew was lounging on the sofa, legs stretched out in front and crossed at the ankles. The spicy scent of cologne in the air teased her nostrils. His intoxicating smell brought to mind passionate kisses in the carriage; the masculine taste had coated her lips for hours.