To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) (16 page)

She undid another button and saw him. Aroused. Ready. A slight moan echoed in the back of her throat.

He understood and drew her forwards, holding her against his erection. He nudged the apex of her thighs. ‘Wrap your legs about me,’ he commanded in her ear. ‘I will support you.’

She did as he asked and felt the length of him fill her. For a long moment they stood, joined, and Henri knew she was experiencing something outside her comprehension, something wonderful. This joining was full of dark passion. Something within him called to the unknown places of her soul and wakened some very vital part of her.

Slowly she began to move her body, giving in to the timeless urge. Her hands grasped his shoulders, holding on tight. His hard muscles moved against her, supporting her as he thrust upwards to meet her. His mouth took her cry, tore it from her throat. Together they moved as one. She heard him groan her name in her ear in a voice that was made husky with desire. Urgency consumed her and she moved her hips with an increasing tempo, feeling
him in her, a part of her. And then her world exploded in sensation. Shattered. And she knew a deep satisfaction. She wrapped her legs tighter about him and clung, being one with him.

* * *

Robert loosened his arms and reluctantly set her back down on to the firm earth. In the fierce coupling, her hair had come loose and now hung about her shoulders. Several damp tendrils curled on her forehead. He reached out a finger and smoothed them away. Her lips turned up into a secret smile.

Never before had he felt this sense of completeness and belonging to one person. He straightened his clothing as she stood unmoving with an errant curl caressing her cheek, highlighting her aroused mouth. He forced his fingers to button his trousers rather than to draw her into his arms again. They had tempted fate enough today.

With deft fingers, he did up her gown and twitched the skirt into place.

Putting his fingers to his lips, he left her for an instant before returning with her bonnet. He placed it on her head and pulled it slightly forwards. His fingers slowly caressed her cheek. A simple touch, but one that reminded him of the passion they had just shared. ‘No one would guess. It amazes me that I never guessed the passion and fire within you. I have been remiss. But I intend to spend time studying it, seeing what you glow.’

‘Ah, an application of your famous method and need for experimentation.’

‘I find method helps increase pleasure.’

She smiled up at him, her blue eyes deepening to
midnight blue. ‘It is best. A secret between us two. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy secrets.’

‘We ought to go up the drawing room now,’ he said, moving away from her, refusing to give in to the desire to hold her again. He’d only end up making love to her. And right now, he had to abide by her wishes and be discreet. He knew that he would spend most of the time away from her plotting how they could contrive to be together and spend longer together. ‘Your aunt will be wondering where we are and why it takes so long to discuss a simple picnic.’

‘Yes, we don’t want an outraged Sebastian.’ She gave a little hiccupping laugh and he knew all was not right between her and her cousin.

‘Cawburn wouldn’t dare.’ Robert thought of the debts daily flooding into his office. The man was in desperate straits. The sooner he retired to the Continent, the better for everyone concerned.

‘I don’t know what Sebastian will or will not do,’ Henri replied. ‘I used to know. I used to think he lived by a certain code. He’s changed.’

‘You can trust me.’

‘It’s a family matter.’ Henri watched him under her lashes. It was incredible to think that a few moments ago she had held his body against hers, that they had been as close as two people could be. But he didn’t need to know the horrible things Sebastian had been saying. ‘I’ll deal with my cousin. I have done so before. He should know better than to try and flim-flam me.’

‘I’m here to help.’

‘Do you think we can keep this a secret? That my aunt won’t guess?’ Henri put her hand to her mouth, and explored her aching lips as she searched for a way
to change the subject. To explain about Sebastian would mean she’d have to reveal something about herself and how she’d behaved with Edmund and she wasn’t ready for that. She wanted Robert to think of her in a good light. ‘I must look dishevelled.’

Her entire being cried out for words of endearment, but Robert simply looked at her. She wanted him to say many things, but he was silent.

‘You look adorable, Henri,’ he said finally.

‘Adorable—oh, dear.’ Henri attempted to think clearly.

‘What’s wrong with adorable?’

‘If anyone thinks there is something between us, they might try to matchmake and being alone together will become that much more difficult.’

‘Always the practical one, but you remain adorable,’ he said, trailing a finger down her bare arm.

‘We both must exercise self-control.’

‘Self-control? My control is lacking where you are concerned.’ He gave a heart-stopping smile. ‘With you, I lose all sense. My body craves you, and you are a most pleasurable addiction.’

‘We will have to plan and co-ordinate. It is far. far too risky just to meet.’ Henri kept her back upright. After what they had just shared, she was not going to beg or ask for more. But no words of tenderness or love had passed between them. She could be like Sebastian and her father, and take her pleasure without having her heart involved. To be any other way was to invite heartache and she had had enough of that to last a lifetime. This was all about the physical and not her heart. It was desire and dark passion. And like a fierce fire, it would burn out, leaving nothing but unremarked ash. One never
grieved for ash. She shivered slightly and silently hoped that it would last for a long while yet.

‘I thrive on risk.’

‘You do?’ She stared at him in astonishment and her stomach turned over. She started to shiver with cold. Her instincts shouted to trust him, but she worried.

He ran a hand down her arm, sending a cascade of warmth throughout her, banishing the cold. ‘The next time we are together, it will be between white linen sheets—when we have time to enjoy each other properly, when you do not have to fear an errant gardener or servant spying. I may thrive on risk, but I know about caution.’

Henri breathed again. ‘The next time?’

‘Surely there is to be a next time.’ His fingers trailed along the edge of her gown.

‘As long as we are discreet.’ Henri’s entire being tensed. How could she refuse him after what they had just shared? But if she didn’t, everything she had said over the past ten years about how she could never marry again was a lie. She could not marry and keep her heart safe at the same time. She could not bear to go into that dark place that she had gone to when she beheld Edmund’s waxlike face, not with anyone. Not with Robert. ‘You know how I feel about marriage.’

The crinkles deepened in the corners of his eyes as if they were sharing a private joke. ‘I respect you far too much to go against your wishes. You wish to have your independence and so you shall. But our affair is not a one-time joining. I am greedy, Henrietta Thorndike, I want more than that. And should there be consequences, we will deal with them together. I take my responsibilities seriously.’

Consequences? Children. Her heart panged. Long ago she’d given up hope of ever holding her own child. If she had not become pregnant before, why would she this time? It would be cruel to hope for one. And, oh, so wrong. But she knew in that moment, she did.

‘If there are any consequences, I will face them. Alone.’

‘We face them together. You are far from being alone; we are friends.’

Henri ran her tongue over her lips. She had thought being with Robert would end everything between them, but it hadn’t. It only made her want him more. She swallowed hard and tried to regain control of her emotions. This was about passion, not love. She was not going to get hurt. She remained in control. ‘And how long will this affair last?’

‘Until we tire of each other.’ He placed a kiss on her nose. His hand caught her elbow and held her against his body. ‘What is between us has only just begun, Henri. I believe I amply demonstrated that. Let us be truthful with each other.’

She put up her hands and broke free.
Be truthful.
It would mean having to confess about how she had contributed to Edmund’s early death, and everything else, and she wasn’t ready for that. She could be truthful about what she wanted from him. ‘An affair between friends.’

‘You shall have your wish, my dear Henri. No one shall hear of it from my lips.’ He raised her fingers to his mouth. ‘I do not kiss and tell.’

R
obert strode along the pathway beside St Andrew’s church towards the market square. An affair with Henri. Of all the outcomes he’d anticipated when he received her note about the other forfeit, he’d never expected to discover a passionate Henri, willing and eager to make love in the sunshine. Unexpected, but highly desirable.

It amazed him that they had been neighbours for all this time without him understanding the passion smouldering within her. And it also showed how little her cousin knew her. Cawburn’s mockery still rankled. Henri was better than that. She judged people on their deeds, not their pedigree. She was honest and true. He’d seen it in her actions. But would it be better to end it now? Keep it to the one perfect time?

Not see Henri again in that way? Prudent, but impossible.

Even now his body thrummed with the anticipation of encountering her again. And someday, he’d discover why she clung to her past and her late husband’s memory so
tightly. But he had to keep a cool head. He knew the folly of completely engaging his emotions. He knew when to stop. He would end it before it happened. He always had before. Kept his heart apart. There was no reason why his encounters with Henri should be any different.

‘Mr Montemorcy. Mr Montemorcy!’ Miss Armstrong signalled to him from near the market cross. Her violent green dress made her look bilious. ‘It’s imperative that we speak.’

With a mental sigh, Robert bid goodbye to the pleasurable but vexing problem of Henri. ‘Miss Armstrong, what is the matter? You appear distressed.’

The spinster’s yellow silk bonnet shook and she withdrew a handkerchief from her reticule. ‘I have been insulted and you are the only person I can turn to.’

‘Indeed.’ There was no reason for Miss Armstrong to suppose any finer feeling existed between them. He had proceeded with the utmost care and consideration, but with no special or marked attention. It bothered him that the woman should feel he would be willing to be her protector against the world. ‘And who has insulted you? If it’s within my power, of course, I will do something about it.’

‘Your ward.’

‘Sophie!’ Robert stared at her. ‘What has my ward done? Does her stepmother know?’

‘I did my best, Mr Montemorcy,’ Miss Armstrong said, wringing her handkerchief. ‘But your ward refused to listen to common sense. It comes from the upbringing, I suppose. Perhaps manners are different where you are from and Miss Ravel is simply misguided and high-spirited. But the fact remains that you were in error when you allowed her to go to the ball.’

‘Where is Sophie? Have you two quarrelled?’ Robert glared at Miss Armstrong. How dare the woman judge Sophie in that fashion! Sophie might be headstrong, but she had behaved in an exemplary fashion at the ball.

‘She has gone and all because of the ball.’ Miss Armstrong raised a lace-edged handkerchief to her eyes. ‘And you are going to blame me. I did my best, Mr Montemorcy. To keep her here and to guide her along the right path. I did my best to warn her of the folly of her actions.’

‘I’m sure you did, Miss Armstrong.’ Robert retained a narrow leash on his temper. He refused to quarrel with a pillar of the community in the middle of a busy market square. Already several people had turned to look at them. ‘Both the Ravels have been grateful for your guidance and hand of friendship these past few weeks.’

‘Once you are apprised of the situation, you will understand why we must now be distant acquaintances. I could not possibly ally.’ Her tiny mouth pursed as she dabbed her eyes. ‘I hope I do not pain you too much, but I felt the sentiments must be expressed.’

‘Why would I blame you for my ward’s bad manners? And believe me, Miss Armstrong, when I say that I had no expectations of any intimate friendship with you.’

The woman’s cheek paled and, for a moment, Robert thought she was going to faint, but she recovered and gave her body a little shake. ‘Then it’s best it’s out in the open. Miss Ravel has endangered her reputation through her reckless behaviour and careless actions.’

Robert shook his head. He had always discounted Henri’s assessment of Miss Armstrong as being distinctly unhelpful in a crisis as Henri always wanting to be in charge, but now he saw that Henri knew more than
she had let on. ‘I apologise for Sophie and whatever trick she has played, Miss Armstrong, and am upset that it has inadvertently caused you distress. But Sophie’s heart is in the right place and she will make amends.’

‘But you fail to understand, Mr Montemorcy. Sophie has destroyed all chances of future happiness.’ Miss Armstrong dissolved into loud sobs and it was several moments before she could continue. ‘You’re going to blame me for everything, Mr Montemorcy. I know you will.’

‘Nobody is going to blame you, Miss Armstrong.’ Robert clenched his fists and then slowly reopened them as he counted to ten and regained control over his temper. ‘Please tell me what happened. Slowly and without giving in to your nerves.’

‘We, Sophie and I, went visiting this morning as dearest Dorothy had a sick headache. Several people expressed a keen interest in meeting your ward after her success at the ball. But your ward is given to forthright views like another I could mention.’

There were no prizes for guessing whom Miss Armstrong meant—Henri. Red-hot anger shot through him.

He wished he had never allowed Miss Armstrong to take Sophie under her wing. The woman was a snob of the first order. He should never have encouraged the friendship, but equally he had no wish to antagonise one of the biggest gossips in the entire north-east. The acquaintance ended now. The woman would never enter his house again. But first he had to discover what imagined crime Sophie had committed.

‘What has Sophie done? Who has she befriended?’ Robert said, exerting all of his self-control. ‘Come now,
Miss Armstrong, it cannot be as bad as you fear. The truth now. Without embellishment.’

‘Miss Ravel has disappeared!’ Miss Armstrong clasped her hands together. ‘I fear she has eloped. Eloped with Lord Cawburn! He will never marry her and society will be closed to her. And you will blame me for my part in her downfall, but it was entirely inadvertent.’

‘Why do you believe my ward has eloped?’

‘Miss Ravel made her excuses after one stop, saying that she remained tired from the ball and wished to return home and check on her stepmother. Not wishing to inconvenience me, she would walk.’

‘I would suspect she did.’ Sophie’s great crime was that she had walked. The tension in Robert’s shoulders eased. She had not eloped, but walked home in an outrage at Miss Armstrong’s tactics. ‘Sophie has a reputation for walking whenever she can. She had a French governess leave because she could not keep up. No doubt she simply wanted to clear her mind. Perhaps something disturbed her.’

He gave Miss Armstrong a stern look.

Miss Armstrong took refuge in her intricately beaded reticule, pulling out another handkerchief and raising it to her eyes. ‘I know nothing of that, Mr Montemorcy.’

‘In fact, you know very little of my ward or her habits.’ Robert forced a smile on his lips. He could imagine the scene. Sophie had finally had enough of Miss Armstrong’s heartfelt advice, and there had been a slight quarrel. He had hoped her manners were better, but he would address that failing when they conversed. Whatever the quarrel, it did not merit Miss Armstrong slandering Sophie.

‘But I do know that something is far from right. She has eloped with Lord Cawburn.’

He fixed the woman with his gaze and waited until two bright spots appeared on her cheeks. ‘Before accusing my ward of eloping, and in particular eloping with a notorious rake such as Lord Cawburn, you must have concrete facts. All you know is that my ward decided to walk back to the New Lodge rather than use your carriage.’

‘But she failed to arrive. Your ward is missing, sir, and if she is such a great walker, she should have arrived.’ Miss Armstrong twisted her reticule so violently that several beads popped off.

‘How do you know this?’

‘Miss Ravel’s card case had fallen on to the seat in my carriage. I did not see them until I finished my calls. I went straight away to return them and your butler told me she was not there.’

‘Then something has happened to her!’

‘What do you propose to do, Mr Montemorcy?’ There was a greediness about the woman’s eyes. He could see her eagerness to depart and confront the next person with her intelligence. Unless he was very careful, Sophie’s innocent jaunt in the countryside could lead to her ruin.

‘The countryside will have to be searched. However, I suspect that there is a much more innocent explanation. This is the Tyne Valley, rather than London or Newcastle.’ He gritted his teeth. Behind Miss Armstrong, a cart and horse rumbled, a girl chased a hoop and the milliner put a fresh hat in the window, little everyday actions that served to remind him that Miss Armstrong was jumping to the wrong conclusion. Nothing had
happened to Sophie. When he returned to the Lodge, she would be there full of fun and mischief at the great jape she had played.

‘Will you chase her to Gretna Green and demand that she marries?’

‘Until we know precisely what has occurred, I would suggest you keep your theories to yourself. You do know what they say about people who spread false and malicious tales.’ Robert turned on his heel. ‘Good day to you, madam.’

‘But Lord Cawburn was there just before she made her excuses.’ Miss Armstrong hurried after him. Her entire being quivered. ‘And as I was leaving, his man delivered a letter to you. From Miss Ravel, I’d wager.’

‘You are speculating, madam. Kindly refrain from doing so. A young woman’s reputation hangs in the balance.’

* * *

‘Where is Sebastian, Aunt?’ Henri asked going into her aunt’s inner sanctum. ‘The house seems strangely still.’

Of all the people she dreaded meeting after her encounter with Robert, it was Sebastian. Unless she was very careful, he would be able to discern in an instant what had passed between her and Robert. When she had gone into the drawing room, she had discovered several half-written letters demanding money and a whole sheaf of bills. She wanted to believe that her cousin was better than a common blackmailer, but she’d not expected the extent of his indebtedness.

Her aunt looked up from some shards of Roman pottery. ‘He has gone out. He has decided to do some visiting.’

‘Sebastian hates visiting. It will be the post inn.’

‘No, he definitely said visiting. My hearing is as good as it ever was. You wrong Sebastian, Henrietta. He does have a good heart and now that he is back here amongst people who love him, rather than in the wicked fleshpots of London, he will settle. Over the last few days, it seemed as if the little boy who used to bring me buttercups before breakfast had come back to me.’

A tiny prickle nagged at the back of Henri’s brain. Sebastian was plotting. Sophie. Today was the day she went out with Miss Armstrong. He was going to confront Sophie. Hopefully, this time, Sophie would be firm and actually tell him the truth. ‘Did he give any reason for this sudden desire to attend At Homes?’

‘I fear he thinks you have become awfully dull and censorious.’ Her aunt gave one of her silvery laughs.

‘Why have I become dull?’ Henri asked lightly.

‘He thinks you have made up your mind about him and are determined to see the worst. He wants to clearly demonstrate how he has changed and what a success he can make of his life.’ She put down the pottery shards. ‘He has sworn that he has given up gaming. And this time, I truly believe he will.’

‘It would be pleasant to think that he could change.’ Henri tapped her finger against the pile of letters. She had the uneasy suspicion that Aunt Frances was keeping something from her. Once Sebastian returned, she would speak to him about these letters. She refused to allow Aunt Frances or herself to become embroiled in some money-making scheme. It would be better for everyone if Sebastian had a new start somewhere else.

Her aunt reached for her teacup. ‘Has Mr Montemorcy
gone? I had asked Cook to make cucumber sandwiches particularly.’

‘There will be more for Sebastian, then, as you seem to have given up on them.’

‘Sebastian keeps saying that cucumber is bad for my digestion. Now, why did Mr Montemorcy depart? Were you unkind to him, Henri? Do try to stay friends with him, Henrietta.’

Henri stilled. The rules for widows were slightly different from those for unmarried women, but even so, she had no wish to cause her aunt distress. As long as she was discreet and did not become the subject of common gossip, she was free to behave as she chose. ‘He departed a few moments ago as he has other business to attend to in the village. He only wished to assure himself that I was well and the journey back here had done nothing to harm my ankle.’

Her aunt’s gaze narrowed. ‘He has brought the roses to your cheeks. You are positively glowing. Male companionship is good for one. If I were twenty years younger…’

Henri ducked her head. ‘It’s more likely going without my bonnet. The sun always gives me a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of my nose.’

‘Henri, dear, you never go without your bonnet tightly fastened on your head.’ Her aunt raised a hand. ‘Mr Montemorcy is a good man. You could do worse than encourage him. His company obviously does you good. Your face was becoming quite pinched and sallow. Now, you appear in the best of health.’

Henri placed two pottery shards together. They formed a naked man’s torso. The best of health. It was as she feared—what had passed between her and
Robert showed in her face. Sebastian would guess, but she doubted Aunt Frances would be that direct. A cold shiver went down her spine. But what would Sebastian do about it? Threaten her or, worse, Robert?

‘It must be the rest. I was obviously far too busy before the attack.’ She picked up a shard and balanced it in her hand, before adding it to her aunt’s current pattern. ‘You simply missed it before.’

‘No, it is something more.’ Her aunt tapped a long finger against her mouth and moved the shard to the side of the vase where it fit perfectly. ‘It is long past time that you remarried, Henrietta. You were not born to be a widow.’