To Rescue or Ravish? (7 page)

* * *

Perfectly fine.
Men could be such uncomprehending idiots.

“Then you went to London and had your first Season as planned, so I knew all was well,” he said.

“Yes,” she lied. “By then it was.”

He’d meant well. He’d thought of her and cared about her in the midst of terrible turmoil. For that she was thankful. But he didn’t love her now, or at least not enough to marry her. She took a deep breath and reassumed her armour. “I thought you were thriving in London, so I put the past out of my mind.”

“Practical of you,” he said, dry as dust.

“And a London Season takes all one’s concentration. I was wholly occupied with important things such as hats and gowns.”

“Important indeed,” he drawled.

Let him sound as revolted as he wished. “And vouchers for Almack’s, naturally.”

“Ah, yes, the Marriage Mart. Suitors in droves.” Now he sounded amused.

“Some, although the death of my father and later my aunt meant I didn’t go out much for a good while. It got far worse after my uncle started shoving them at me,” she said darkly, and then remembered to play her role. “So frightfully wearying, but I managed to stave them off.”

“By becoming an icicle.” Was that laughter lurking in his voice? “But surely amongst all those eligible fellows, you must have met
one
you liked.”

This wasn’t funny. It was torture! “How much farther is it to your mother’s house?”

“Not far,” he said. “Come now, Arabella. Not one man appealed to you?”

“Oh, I fancied quite a few of them,” she said airily, “but marry them? Heavens, no! One in particular was a most likeable man, and I had to go to great lengths to discourage him.” She paused. “Which was all for the best, as it chanced, because he can’t have really wished for a respectable woman. Almost immediately after I drove him away, he married a notorious one instead.” She gave a brittle little laugh.

That silenced him for a while. They turned onto a square with newly constructed houses, neither small nor large, but too big for an older lady of limited means. “How
much
longer?” She wished she didn’t sound so petulant. So spoiled. “I’m cold and tired.”

“Poor little flower. What was wrong with them, those unfortunate fellows? Ah, I have it! You were worried your husband would realize you’re not a virgin.” He slipped into the speech of the jarvey again. “You needn’t have been, ‘cause I’ve heard—not that I’ve any personal experience of it, mind—that it’s not that easy to tell, and there’s ways and ways to fool a man.”

“You needn’t be disgusting,” she said. “Such shifts never even occurred to me.”

“No?” In the light of a streetlamp, she caught the mocking glint in his eyes. He didn’t believe her. Ironic, since this at least was entirely true. “Then why?”

She ripped her hand from his arm, stuck her nose in the air and marched away. “I was waiting for a better offer. I still am.”

* * *

“Hold on,” he said. “We’ve arrived.” She stopped. Turned. Gazed up at the house before which they now stood—four elegant stories in cool stone.
Look at her, as flummoxed as I was in the tavern.

“Your mother lives here?”

“No, I gave her the house next door. This place is mine.” He glanced up at his mother’s bedroom window. “I was hoping Mama would be awake—she doesn’t sleep well—but there’s no light in her window, and I don’t want to disturb her. We’ll go in here for now.”

Arabella said nothing, staring numbly from one house to the other. His mother’s was much smaller than his.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” He tried to keep his tone even. “I won often, invested wisely and I’m quite well off now.” Matt left her standing on the pavement and unlocked the front door. “I haven’t decided whether to stay here or sell the house. It may not be what I need.”

“It seems like a good house,” she said faintly.

“Yes, but what do I need with a place like this? I like the tavern. I like my friends.” He ushered her into the entrance hall, where his valet had left a lamp burning low. “On the other hand, this house is just right for raising a family. There’s a small garden in the back, and children can play ball in the square. Mama’s been pestering me to marry and give her some grandchildren, you see.”

“Oh.” She sounded awfully glum, but that wasn’t enough. Proud and stubborn as they come, his Bella. Always needed goading.

Very well, goad her he would. “It’s been a long struggle, but now I have the money to choose a gently bred bride. Thing is, I’m not sure I want to anymore.”

“No?” Her voice quavered.
Excellent
.

“Naw, she might expect me to get on with the nobs.” He paused. “Might expect me to talk like one of them. Might think she’s too good for my friends.” He paused again. “I’ll make us a spot of tea, shall I? You’ll have to put up with the kitchen. The kettle won’t take long to boil.”

She took a step forward, and he caught her sob, soft against the stillness of the night. Almost there. “Buck up, Arabella,” he said. “The ordeal is over. Everything will be fine.”

“No,” she said. “Oh,
no
.”

“What do you mean, ‘oh, no’?” It killed him not to take her in his arms. “Fine. If you can’t stomach the kitchen, then stay in the cold-as-hell drawing room where you belong.” He gestured with a sweep of the hand. “It’s over there.”

“I don’t mind the k-kitchen, Matt.” She hiccupped on a sob. “It’s that I’ve done everything wrong for seven whole years.”

* * *

She sniffled. On the worst night of her life, she didn’t even have a handkerchief.

Matt huffed, withdrew a folded square of linen from his pocket and handed it to her. “You could have just asked me for it. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m merely a little tired.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“Maybe I am.” She sobbed again. “But if I tell you the truth, you’ll never believe me now. If I’d told you earlier, before we came to this beautiful new house…” She hiccupped. “But now it’s too late.”

A smile hovered at the edge of his mouth. “Forget the tea. I have a better idea. Wait here.” He picked up the lamp and disappeared toward the back of the house. It was pitch-dark and she had no place else to go, so she did as she was told.

He emerged a minute later carrying a bottle of wine. He thrust it at her. “Take this.” She was too tired and dispirited to argue. He was carrying a corkscrew and a small earthenware cup. “Follow me.”

Again, she didn’t have much choice, since the alternative was remaining alone in the cold and dark. He led her up one flight of stairs and then another, and pushed open the door to a bedchamber.

Another lamp, turned low, sat on a table by the bed—a big bed with lovely, thick blankets and soft pillows. Did he mean to seduce her again? She would have to refuse him. She might excuse herself for losing control tonight, but she couldn’t become a man’s mistress, no matter how much she loved him.

The bedchamber wasn’t stone-cold like the rest of the house; a few coals still glowed in the grate. “My man’s a treasure,” he said. “I told him I might not be home till morning, but he warmed the room just in case.”

A sofa stood before the fire. On a table at one end stood a small bowl of sweets wrapped in paper. She set the bottle of wine down beside it and took one of the sweets. “What were you planning to do all night? I suppose I interfered with your plans.”

“You could say that,” Matt said. “I meant to drink blue ruin until I passed out.”

“You drink gin? How appalling.” There, they were having an ordinary conversation now. She untwisted the paper from the sweet and took a tiny bite, and then another. Perhaps she could make her way through this ordeal—which wasn’t over, not by a long shot—with her pride intact.

He’d got the fire going again. He uncorked the wine, filled the earthenware cup and set it on the hob. “It’s not exactly mulled wine, but at least it won’t be cold.”

She wanted him, wanted the warm wine and his hot mouth, but she couldn’t have them unless she also had his heart.

“Don’t look so forlorn, sweetheart. Remember how I had to coax it all out of you when your mother died and your aunt tried to take her place? You kept your feelings locked up inside and pretended nothing was wrong, but in the end you cried all down my shirt and felt better.” He indicated the sofa. “Isn’t that so?”

“Yes,” she whispered, but she didn’t sit down. She took another bite of the sweet.

He undid the clasp of her cloak, removed it and laid it at the far end of the sofa. “You’ll feel better if you tell me the truth, whatever it is, and get it over with.”

Pride and misery warred within her. She wanted to tell him everything. She couldn’t bear to.

He put his arms around her and pulled her close. She shuddered. Oh, what was she to do? She was already neck-deep in a swamp of humiliation, but she didn’t have the courage to drown.

“It’s time to thaw, little icicle,” he said.

“I’m not an icicle!” she cried, and suddenly she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her heart broke, and she laid her forehead on his chest and wept.

His arms tightened about her. He rocked her back and forth before the fire. “I know, Bella-love. I know. So why did you pretend?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?”

She sniffled. “I spent the last seven years trying to get rid of you.”

“Rid of me?” He drew away a little, his eyes warm and worried. “I was long gone.”

“Yes, you were gone, but I couldn’t forget you. All I could do was distract myself. I threw myself into what was expected of a young woman making her debut in society.” She twisted the remains of the sweet in its paper and threw it into the fire. Through gritted teeth, she said, “And I shut you out and shut you out and shut you out of my mind.”

“God, Bella.”

Was that all he could say? “It didn’t work. I missed you so much it hurt, but I couldn’t wear my heart on my sleeve. I couldn’t bear to let anyone know. I couldn’t even go into a decline. I had to nail my memories of you into a coffin in my mind.”

“How gruesome of you.”

“Then I had my Seasons, and the offers of marriage came, and I tried to want one of my suitors, but I couldn’t, simply couldn’t—not after I’d had you.” She was losing command of her voice. “The only way to bear it all was to become cold as ice.”

“Well, now,” he said. “That’s good to know.” He let go of her and bent to tend the fire. She had to explain. “I didn’t plan it, precisely, but being an icicle discouraged most of my

suitors. As for those who persisted… To get rid of them, I had to make them loathe me.” She sobbed. “I rather loathed myself at times.”

It was over. She’d humiliated herself worse than ever, and that was that. She dug for the handkerchief, which she’d stuffed in the pocket of her cloak, and blew her nose.

He picked up the cup of wine and took a sip. “Meanwhile, I was keeping myself alive with memories of you.”

“You…what?”

“I was alone, sweetheart, with no family and no friends, and it was an almighty struggle just to stay warm and fed. Thoughts of you were what kept me going.”

“I’m—I’m glad I was of some help to you, if only in memory.”

He smiled, and regret touched with mischief lit his eyes. He raised the wine in salute. “I warmed my cold nights with visions of your beautiful breasts.”

Oh, damn! If she didn’t reassert her pride and her control, her breasts would…begin to tingle. Would swell in anticipation. Would crave his touch, would direct her eyes and her imagination to his hands, so hot and capable and…

She drew herself up, stiffened her spine and firmed her resolve. “I think perhaps I handled it all wrong. Once I’d been out a couple of years and felt comfortable in society, I should have made a point of finding out where you were, of coming across you somewhere in public, where I could get used to you without falling apart. Gradually, I would have become accustomed to thinking of you as a friend again.”

“I doubt it,” he said.

“Instead, the one time I saw you entirely by accident, I pretended not to notice you. It was cowardly of me, and I apologise, but I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t
prepared.
But you must believe me, Matt—I would never, ever toy with you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that. Have some wine.”

She accepted the cup without thinking, took a swallow without reflecting. It trickled down her insides, and her mind exploded with images of wine running in rivulets down the hills of her breasts, pooling in the valley of her navel. Of Matt licking it up and pouring more, licking and pouring, lower and lower each time.

She crammed the memories down and took a deep breath. “Now that we’ve met again, I
shall
become accustomed, so you need not let it bother you. It’s only a matter of time.”

* * *

Lord, how he loved this stubborn girl. “Oh, I’m not bothered at all,” he said. “Not the way I was earlier this evening, before we chanced to meet again.”

She blew her nose again and took a deep breath. “What—what was bothering you?” She still didn’t have control of her voice—an encouraging sign.

“The news that my best friend was finally getting married.” He sat on the sofa and removed his boots.

Perhaps she was exhausted, or maybe, unlike him, she was trying to fight the memories of wine trickling down her breasts, belly and thighs. It took her several seconds to understand, and even then she wasn’t sure. “Which friend?”

He rolled his eyes.

“You mean me?”

“Of course I mean you.” He stripped off his stockings. “I’d been dreading such an announcement for years.” He stood and proffered the cup again. “Take a good big swallow.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” She took a tiny sip.

“On half a cup of wine?” He let his eyes dwell on her chest, revelling in her quickened breathing. “I was thinking of refilling the cup so we’ll have some warm and ready for your nipples.”

“Matt, I—”

“And your belly, and your navel, and anyplace else you would enjoy being licked.”

“Matt,
don’t!
”

“Hush.” He took the cup away, set it on the table and pulled her with him onto the sofa, and then onto his lap. She didn’t settle easily, but nor did she struggle. He drew her close until the side of her breast touched his chest, but she didn’t soften and nestle as she should. His cock stirred happily beneath the round sweetness of her bum, but the rest of him knew things weren’t quite right. She had no faith in him at all. To be truthful, he’d had a fight of it to keep his faith in her.