The Master of Winterbourne

‘Creaking board?’ Matthew looked puzzled, then his brow cleared. ‘Ah, yes, the parlour floor. A small matter, the barn roof is of greater import, Master Weldon. Perhaps you can spare me some time after dinner to go over the affairs of the estate.’ He made it an invitation, but both men knew it was a command and that Robert would spare as much time as the new master demanded.

‘I am at your disposal, sir.’ Robert bowed. ‘I will attend you this afternoon if you would care to come to the estate-room.’

Henrietta watched Alice and Robert disappear through the back door with a sinking heart. She cast round for an excuse to leave and, finding none, was forced to comply when Matthew offered her his arm and said, ‘Walk with me, Mistress. Can we get to the gardens through this gate?’

‘If you don't mind crossing the drying lawns.’ Henrietta rested her fingertips on his sleeve and allowed him to lead her out of the yard and across the close-clipped turf where two laundry maids were spreading out sheets in the warm sunshine. The girls straightened up, bobbing curtsies, giggling and blushing at their first sight of the new master.

‘A cheerful collection of servants you have here,’ Matthew remarked drily as he opened the wicket gate into the knot garden. ‘Everywhere I go I'm greeted with smiles and blushes.’

‘They are a pack of silly wenches who will giggle at any personable man, whatever his station,’ Henrietta retorted without thinking.

‘So you consider me personable? I thank you, Henrietta, for that compliment at least.’

‘You have a mirror, I presume, sir? You do not need me to flatter you.’

Matthew's lips twitched but he didn't rise to the bait, bending instead to pick a clove-scented pink. ‘On the subject of servants, cousin, is Weldon betrothed to that maidservant of yours? Because, if not, the sooner they are, the better.’

Henrietta stared at him blankly. How could he know about Alice and Robert?

He misinterpreted her puzzlement. ‘I assume the child she is carrying is his?’

‘How did you know?’

‘My wife had the same look about her when she was carrying our son.’

‘But you said you had no children,’ Henrietta blurted out, then stopped at the sight of his face.

‘Matthew, forgive me, that was clumsy. Did he… did he die too?’

‘She died bearing him. He lived a scant two days longer.’ His face showed no emotion, but his clipped voice, the vicious jerk with which he threw the crushed pink from him, told her everything she needed to know.

‘I should have spent more time with her at our home in Highgate, but I was too concerned with business matters in Town and I did not see how much she needed me.’

‘I am so sorry.’ It seemed a woefully inadequate thing to say. ‘You too have had your losses…’

‘It is in the past.’ He cut off her stumbling sympathy but his very abruptness underlined the pain in his eyes.

‘They are betrothed.' Henrietta retreated to the safer ground of someone else's marriage. ‘But Alice would not leave me before I was married.’

‘There would be no need for her to leave you. I have no intention of supplanting Weldon as steward. The man is obviously able and the affairs of the estate are in good order. I suggest you make arrangements for their wedding as soon as maybe.’

‘Yes, I will do so. It will be a weight off my mind. Does this mean you have reconsidered your threat to dismiss all my people?’ She had to make certain.

‘Do you believe I would have done that? You were living a fantasy, thinking you could go to the Low Countries and I had to focus your mind, that is all. You called me Matthew just now,’ he added. Henrietta couldn't tell from his tone if he was teasing or reproving.

‘I am sorry, it was forward of me,’ she began stiffly, swallowing her resentment that he had tricked her but knowing he was right, then broke off as he took her gently by the shoulders.

‘I liked it, Henrietta. Why are we wasting our time discussing other people's betrothals when we can think about our own?’

Henrietta felt the world go still and silent around her, conscious only of the warmth of his palms cupping her shoulders, the nearness of his body, the promise in those deep green eyes.

‘Tonight Lawyer Stone shall draw up the papers and witness our promise. And then, my dear Henrietta, we will be bound by an indissoluble vow.’

Listening to his voice, suddenly husky, feeling the tension in his body, Henrietta was aware of her own instinctive response to him. She knew many couples regarded betrothal as tantamount to marriage and that to all but the most strait-laced Puritan it was no shame to anticipate the wedding night. And that, she had no doubt, was precisely what Matthew was about with these soft words. He didn't love her, of course, but he did desire her, that was plain.

He had no need to marry her to get Winterbourne for it was already firmly in his hands. He didn't even need to marry her to protect her position, he could give her enough money to join her aunt and uncle in the Low Countries and everyone would consider he had discharged his duty. But he was a man with a man's needs and marriage to her was an uncomplicated way of fulfilling his desires for a wife in his bed and a son to inherit Winterbourne.

He would tolerate her Royalist sympathies because he desired her, not because he wanted to please her, or even cared what she thought. And she had already tasted his cold displeasure when she'd tried to stand up to him.