Never Marry a Stranger (13 page)

Leaning against a stone wall, Emily enjoyed the warmth of the sun, watching Susanna sketch out her ideas for a more elaborate painting from the high point of the castle. Her students had spread out among the ruins, but Mr. Derby still lingered nearby. At last Susanna seemed to notice his interest, and her expression became polite, but unreadable. She closed up her notebook and started back toward the picnic pavilions.

Emily took her arm. “Oh, don’t return yet,” she said impulsively. “We all enjoy watching you work.”

Susanna sighed, her eyes glancing toward Mr. Derby. “Emily, you’ve spent a year watching me work, so that can’t be all of the truth.” She lowered her voice. “I just feel…uncomfortable around Mr. Derby. I know he wasn’t the one who said cruel things about me, but—”

“Haven’t you ever been in a situation where you didn’t know how to speak up? Or know the right thing to say? Perhaps those were his problems. I am not making excuses for his benefit, only for yours, so that you can forgive and forget.”

“I know,” Susanna said. “And I remind myself of that. I promise that I’m trying.”

Emily let her go, and Susanna, with a brief smile for her, and even a pleasant nod toward Mr. Derby, went back through into the ruins.

When Mr. Derby moved to follow Susanna, Emily called his name.

Smiling, his blond hair gleaming in the sun, he nodded to her. “Yes, Mrs. Leland?”

She looked about, making sure they could not be overheard. “Would you mind a very small piece of advice?”

His smile grew stiff, and he said nothing.

She had probably made a mistake by interfering, but it was done now. “Give Miss Leland time, Mr. Derby. She is…the sort of young woman who needs to take things slowly.”

“There is no need to couch your words, Mrs. Leland. I know you don’t want me connected to this family.”

She gaped at him. “I never—”

“You made it abundantly clear before Captain Leland returned.”

“My reluctance to become involved with another man had nothing to do with you, Mr. Derby.”

“But I was the man you wouldn’t become involved with,” he said with sarcasm.

“You were not the only man—you could not be blind to that. There were several men expressing subtle interest, but there was something inside me that just knew…” She paused, hand to her
heart, then continued softly, “I just knew I wasn’t ready.”

But he must not have believed her, for he continued coldly, “I know I do not have the sort of wealth the granddaughter of a duke might wish for, but your beginnings are not any better than mine. Yet you think yourself a suitable wife for Captain Leland?”

How to answer that? “I do,” she said in a calm voice. “And you might be just what Miss Leland wants and needs. But if you push her right now, it will all be for naught.”

He opened his mouth, but then seemed to think better of speaking, for he turned on his heel and marched away. Emily closed her eyes for a moment. Part of her wanted to read deeper into everything Mr. Derby said, but what was the point? If he was helping Stanwood, she could hardly confront him about it.

She faced the very real possibility that the safe world she’d constructed for herself could come crashing down around her. Though Matthew’s return had complicated everything, she was growing more certain that they could be happy together. She’d practically melted when he confessed his concern about Rebecca’s health, his deep fears about how the army had changed him. And then she’d foolishly asked him if he loved her. What had she been thinking? What a perfect method to push a
man away, just when she was so close to having all she wanted.

He was telling her more and more about himself—and she was falling for the honorable man he was. That wasn’t part of the plan.

But she could adapt. And she wouldn’t let Mr. Derby—or Stanwood—get in the way.

L
ate in the afternoon, as Emily was approaching her suite to change for dinner, she came around the corner and stumbled to a halt as she saw Lieutenant Lawton outside her bedroom door. Without conscious decision, she backed around the corner and then peered out at him.

He was just standing there, looking down as if he were debating something. Opening the door perhaps?

Or did he have something he wanted to leave for her?

That infuriated her so much that she marched around the corner. The lieutenant’s head came up and he smiled at her with natural ease, but she wasn’t misled. She, too, was very good at behaving as if nothing was wrong.

“Lieutenant, are you looking for me?” she asked directly. “If I am not mistaken, we just came from the same picnic.”

“No, Mrs. Leland, I was actually looking for Matthew.”

“Then why not knock?” she asked. “I saw you just…standing here, doing nothing.”

He grinned and shuffled his feet like a boy. “You’ll think me foolish, but I couldn’t remember which bedroom he was using.”

A very good excuse, she thought. “That is my room,” she informed him.

“Forgive me.”

“Of course,” she answered, forcing a smile. “I was simply surprised to see you here. You have not been often at Madingley Court, and even at the picnic I saw you talking to others rather than Matthew.”

“I did not want to intrude on your time with him,” he said smoothly.

He was watching her deliberately, his eyes full of open amusement—and it bothered her.

“Where do you go when you leave us?” she asked.

“Riding, ma’am. It is so refreshing to be among the cool English countryside after the heat of India.”

“Then you’ve been riding for many days.”

“And letter-writing,” he reminded her. His manner suddenly became less cocky and more serious. “Mrs. Leland, might I offer a word of advice?”

Hadn’t she just said those same words to Mr.
Derby? she thought with exasperation. “Of course, Lieutenant.”

“You seem…uneasy. If there is something wrong, I suggest you discuss it with Matthew. He is of an understanding nature.”

She arched a brow and coolly said, “And I would not know that about my own husband?”

He spread his hands wide even as he bowed. “Forgive me. I will not presume to bother you again.”

Then he walked around her and was gone.

When Matthew returned from the picnic and saw that a thick envelope was waiting for him on the silver tray holding the post, he took it to the library and started to close himself inside. Someone pushed on the door from out in the hall.

“Matthew?” Reggie said, peering in the crack.

Laughing, Matthew opened the door wide.

“When I couldn’t find you upstairs,” Reggie said, “Hamilton told me I could find you here.”

“And I thought I had hidden myself as well as one could in a palace with hundreds of servants. Count on Hamilton to know everything that is going on. Come in.”

Matthew sat down in a leather chair near a window, and Reggie did the same nearby.

“And why hide yourself in here?” Reggie asked.

Matthew held up the envelope. “The investiga
tor’s report. We can’t have prying ears hear about this.”

“Ah.” Reggie eyed it with interest. “Would you like to read it alone?”

“You and I have no secrets,” Matthew said, smiling as he shrugged. He unsealed the envelope.

“Will you be glad to know the truth?” Reggie asked, leaning back in his chair as he clasped his hands behind his head. “Or has it been great fun figuring it out on your own?”

Matthew continued to grin. “The latter, I think. But this was a necessary step. The next one will be up to me.”

The investigator had filled several sheets of paper with details about Emily Grey’s childhood in a village outside Southampton, how she was the beloved little girl of the family, and how they’d died tragically. None of what he read was different from her own story up to that point. As he finished each page, he handed it to Reggie to read.

Emily had told him she’d had cousins to go to, but the investigator reported that the cousin who inherited Squire Grey’s entailed land had not wanted Emily, and even claimed he didn’t have a place for her.

“What a cold man,” Reggie said thoughtfully.

“It’s hard for a woman to marry well in that situation,” Matthew said pointedly.

“And her meager inheritance would barely keep her in food and clothing, let alone under the safety of a roof. Useless as a dowry.”

“I wonder what purpose it served to lie to me by saying her cousin wanted her?” Matthew wondered aloud.

“Perhaps she didn’t want to appear too pitiable.”

“Well, she did have Mr. Tillman, the vicar who’d sent a letter to my parents informing them of the marriage before Emily’s arrival.”

Reggie looked up at Matthew dubiously. “I rather thought Tillman would be a shady character.”

Matthew nodded. “I’d been prepared to hear of a man well versed in persuading his parishioners to donate their money, a man who bent God’s rules as he saw fit. But the investigator says that Tillman was elderly, and already living on a meager retirement sum in a single rented room at the time of the Grey family tragedy.”

“He could hardly take Emily in.”

Matthew held up the paper that Reggie hadn’t read yet. “She rented a room from a hard-faced spinster, who was glad to tell the investigator that Emily often had trouble paying the rent, that her sewing seldom earned her even a meager living.”

He lowered the pages to his lap for a moment, unable to erase the image of Emily sewing by candlelight, trying to support herself in a world that
showed little compassion for penniless women. He didn’t like the emotions racing back and forth inside him, from anger to pity. Emily wouldn’t want that from him.

“So what did she do to survive?” Reggie asked.

“The landlady suspected that Emily had found another way to earn a small amount of money, but didn’t know what it was.” Matthew rolled his eyes. “Since Emily had no visitors, proper or improper, the landlady insisted she made it a point not to pry.”

“How charitable of her.” When Matthew remained silent, Reggie cautiously said, “If Emily hadn’t been able to keep up with the rent, what was she forced to do before news of your death gave her a way out?”

“All the investigator could find out was that on the night Tillman died, Emily simply vanished with her small amount of belongings. No one had cared why, or tried to discover what happened to her. Her only friend was dead, and she’d had no one else.”

“Sounds like a desperate situation.”

“Then why not tell the truth once she arrived here?” Matthew said, elbows on his knees as he spoke earnestly to his friend. “My family would have helped her in any way they could. Instead, she simply claimed to be my wife.”

“Tillman claimed it first.”

“It doesn’t make any difference how she an
nounced the plot. It was a bold move. Something more must have happened to force her into it. She’d done her best to support herself, and she’s proud enough that she would have continued to do so if she’d had any chance of success.”

“How can you know her well enough to know that? This life is certainly easier.”

“Only in some ways,” Matthew reminded him. “And now that I’m home, it’s even more difficult for her.”

“But now she’s stuck with the part, isn’t she?” Reggie seemed to hesitate, then at last said, “She seems…nervous to me.”

Matthew tilted his head, intrigued. “Really? How?”

“Just a little while ago I was looking for you in the family wing. You’d have thought I was about to burglarize your suite by the suspicious way she confronted me. Nothing happened beyond that, and her manner became cordial once again.”

“I guess we can’t blame her for being cautious,” Matthew said, but he was already turning over in his mind again the question of how Emily might have been earning extra money in Southampton. The investigator was unable to confirm another employer. What had she done that forced her to flee?

After a dinner filled with discussion about the imminent arrival of the rest of the family, Matthew
was surprised when Emily drew him aside in the corridor outside the dining room and spoke in a soft voice.

“Matthew, with the Madingley ball in two days’ time, would you like to practice your dancing? You said that you didn’t remember the steps.” She looked up at him sweetly, her eyes full of concern.

He grinned at her. “Excellent idea. Susanna?”

His sister looked over her shoulder at them.

Emily slid her arm into his and pulled him close, whispering, “What are you doing?”

“She can play for us.”

“Unnecessary. Let her talk about her triumph at the picnic today with Lady Rosa. You’ll remember how the music sounds. Or we can hum.”

So, it would be another attempt at seduction, Matthew thought, anticipating it even though he knew he should resist.

“We aren’t going to join you in the drawing room,” Emily called to his sister. “We have something to discuss.”

Susanna arched a brow devilishly, but Emily ignored it.

Matthew wasn’t going to take the risk of being interrupted. “We’re going to practice dancing,” he told Susanna. “Alone,” he added meaningfully.

His sister covered her mouth, but her eyes shone with merriment.

“Do wish good-night to your parents for us,”
Emily said, then steered Matthew down another corridor.

Side by side they walked upstairs to the ballroom on the next floor. At that time of night the room was dark, a cavern of blackness, but Emily brought in a lamp from the corridor and set it on a small table. It only illuminated a glow about her, leaving everything else dark.

Matthew enjoyed looking at her. She was wearing a pale blue gown that just hid the tops of her breasts, yet displayed her slender waist and the swell of her hips. She looked ethereal in the near darkness, a glow of beauty that lured him to fly too near and risk incinerating himself.

Soon he’d have his hands on those delectable curves, and she’d be touching him—

She put her fists on her hips and spoke briskly. “We’ll begin with the quadrille, which will open the dancing at the ball.”

“Ah yes. I was taught at a young age to have a store of small talk on the tip of my tongue, ever ready to amuse my partner.”

A faint frown furrowed her forehead. “But I thought you said you didn’t remember.”

He kept smiling as he shook his head. “I don’t remember the steps, it is true. But how can one forget the endless admonishments of dance masters?”

Though she probably hadn’t been taught by dance masters, she nodded and tried to smile again.
Clearly, she was troubled by his misspoken words. She began to instruct him about the four couples participating in the dance and the necessary steps, from the
chasse
to the
glissade.
She stood at his side and demonstrated each, and he gained secret amusement at teasing her with his inability to follow. When she finally bent to pull his thigh forward, she froze, looked up at him, and they both began to laugh.

The merriment lit her face into an angelic glow, even as she stumbled back, holding her hand to her side. Her laugh was hearty, not missish, and he enjoyed the sound. It made him think of earthy pleasures and ticklish kisses. He thought it was a good thing she wasn’t still bent over his thighs, or she’d see the tight fit of his trousers.

“I think I’m remembering now,” he said at last. “Let’s begin the dance again.”

After several false starts—and without other couples to dance with—they were able to complete a quadrille without mistakes.

He liked touching her hand and waist so much, he betrayed his eagerness by saying, “Now on to the waltz.”

She was obviously trying to use her professional schoolmistress voice, but it was difficult to be serious when she was manipulating his hands to place them on her body.

He tried to pull her close, enjoying the brush of
her feminine skirts, and then the impression of her thighs. When she pushed him back, again demonstrating the proper form, he murmured, “But surely it is different between a husband and wife.”

She managed to breathlessly say, “When a married couple is dancing in public, they must behave as properly as everyone else.”

As she began to demonstrate the turns involved, he deliberately stumbled as he followed her, pulling her tight against him so she didn’t trip. She eyed him boldly, he answered with an innocent smile, and they tried again. He let himself look surprised, as if by a memory, then confident, and soon they were truly dancing. The sweep of the dance took them away from the faint glow of the lamp, into darkness, but that did not deter him. He was too caught up in how well they moved together, how they anticipated each other’s every step as if they’d practiced forever.

Her face grew flushed, her smile faded, and soon she was just staring up at him and he was staring down at her. He was consumed with the promise of the night, their own bedroom, and the battle within his thoughts about taking her to bed.

The circle of the dance took them back into the lamplight—and the sound of applause. Matthew and Emily broke apart, only to see his parents standing in the doorway, still applauding, their expressions
full of delight. Did Lady Rosa actually wipe away a tear?

He smiled perfunctorily, irritated by the interruption. “So you found us.”

Lady Rosa bustled forward. “And it was necessary. Tonight we were going to discuss all of the guests we’ve invited to the ball, so that you will be armed with enough knowledge.”

Emily touched his mother’s arm. “That is so thoughtful of you, Lady Rosa. Matthew will do best if he feels at ease. That’s what we were doing here tonight.”

Matthew saw Professor Leland give an abbreviated snort as he looked away.

“Rosa,” the professor said, “perhaps the young people wish to be alone.”

“But the family arrives tomorrow, Randolph. There won’t be time for this discussion. And Matthew certainly doesn’t wish it to be in front of his cousins.” She turned to Matthew. “Are you planning to tell them about your memory loss, dear?”