Never Marry a Stranger (19 page)

Heart pounding, she started moving swiftly ahead and to the left. She had the advantage of knowing the paths, for she’d walked and ridden through these woods on her way across the estate.

“Emily.”

She heard someone call her name behind her, a man’s voice almost whispering—but not Matthew. Who was it?

She started to run, gripping the arrow tight, knowing it was her only weapon. Branches brushed her arms and her face, but she couldn’t afford to slow down, knowing that she had to run an even longer distance to find safety.

As the contest was halted for refreshments, Matthew approached his parents and aunts. They were watching their children fondly, talking among themselves when he sat down.

The dowager duchess, his aunt Isabella, said, “I never thought I would see all three young men married before their sisters. Matthew, I thought you might be the last one of all the cousins.”

He smiled and looked toward his sisters, who were sharing a bowl of grapes. It was getting far too easy to pretend that he was a husband in truth.

“And when we received that letter saying you’d married,” his mother added, “in
India
of all places, or so we assumed, why, we didn’t know what to think.”

He shrugged and lifted both hands playfully.

“Do you remember anything yet from early in your marriage?” Aunt Isabella asked.

Matthew shot a glance at his mother, who didn’t even blush.

“We thought it best to inform the family, Matthew,” Lady Rosa said. “They should know everything.”

He smiled at the dowager duchess. “No, Aunt Isabella, the details of my marriage still elude me. But I find I don’t care anymore.”

“That is obvious,” she said with amusement. “You seem very happy to be home with Emily. It is not surprising that you’ve fallen in love with that sweet girl all over again. Perhaps it even invigorates one’s marriage.”

Fallen in love?
Was that what they all thought?

Before he could respond, he saw Emily emerging through the trees. She clutched a single arrow as she moved swiftly, then came to an abrupt halt when she reached the lawn. For a moment he thought she swayed.

He excused himself and went to her.

She gave a little start when he said her name, then smiled and held up the arrow. “I only found one.”

After he took the arrow, she clasped her hands behind her back.

“Emily, why are you breathing so heavily?”

“I needed the exercise, so I walked quite vigorously.”

“Or you were trying to escape?” he asked with perception.

She met his gaze swiftly. “Escape who?”

“I don’t know.” He put his arm around her. “There’s no reason for you to feel guilty or to avoid everyone. Our secrets are our own.”

She nodded, lips pressed together. “I’ll try to do better, Matthew,” she said softly.

A
fter dinner that night there was much excitement as all the young ladies decided to play the piano and sing. Matthew was grateful when Christopher and Daniel pulled him away as Professor Leland entered the drawing room ahead of them.

“What are we doing?” Matthew asked, laughing, when he was led into the library.

Christopher shut the door. “Since we’re leaving tomorrow, Daniel and I felt the need for a final discussion.”

“You certainly don’t need to leave your home,” Matthew countered. “Surely most of the
ton
are not in London at this time of the year.”

“You need time with your wife and family,” Christopher said. “The rest of us would be in the way.”

Daniel pushed Matthew into a chair. “So what has changed?” he demanded, smirking. “Besides the fact that you bedded Emily last night.”

Matthew only arched a brow. “That is between me and my wife.”

“Your
wife
?” Christopher said in a low voice, coming to sit beside Daniel on the sofa opposite Matthew. “Listen to yourself!”

Matthew sighed even as he smiled. “I’ve been pretending it for a week now; it’s hard to break the habit.”

“You don’t seem to be able to break the habit of
Emily,
either,” Daniel said shrewdly.

“She told me the truth,” Matthew said.

Christopher straightened in obvious surprise. “She did? Of her own volition?”

“Well…first I told her I didn’t have amnesia, and that I knew she wasn’t my wife.”

Daniel cocked his head. “After you slept with her, I bet. I’m impressed at what a rake you’ve become.”

Christopher shot Daniel a frown. “I’m not impressed. Matthew, you took her to bed under false pretenses.”

“I didn’t force her; it was a very mutual decision.”

“But she still thought you believed her to be your wife,” Christopher said with a touch of anger. “What was she supposed to do?”

“I gave her a choice.” Matthew was surprised at how defensive he suddenly felt. “She said yes.”

“She knew what she was getting into, once you returned,” Daniel said.

At least he had
someone
on his side, he thought.

Christopher sagged back on the couch, closing his eyes. “I am worried about you, Matthew. I don’t see how you can escape this mess easily. But you say she knows the truth now?”

“And she agreed to await my decision about how to resolve it. She’s just what I knew she was—a desperate woman with no one else to turn to.”

“And she’s still desperate, and still has no one else to turn to,” Christopher said. “Don’t you see?”

Matthew forced himself to consider Christopher’s point. “You’re trying to say she’s still trapped—I know that. But I’m trapped, too. She started the lies, and I don’t know how to stop them.” He hesitated. “Maybe I don’t want to stop them.”

“What?” Christopher demanded.

Daniel just laughed.

“Maybe this is exactly the kind of marriage I want, where we both know what to expect.”

“And you can’t be hurt?” Daniel said softly.

Matthew arched a brow in surprise.
Daniel
was talking about
feelings?
Marriage really
had
changed him.

“It’s not about being hurt,” Matthew said easily, when they both continued to study him.

“What did your real wife do to you?” Christopher asked, sympathy in his voice.

That was something he was resolved to never tell anyone. “Emily is different than other women I’ve met in Society,” he said. “She works hard at her teaching, and I think it’s because she’s trying to give something back for the help she’s received from the family.”

“Listen to yourself!” Christopher said, shaking his head. He took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you what you’re feeling or what you should do; you’ll have to discover that on your own. But I can tell you that women are proud. Emily isn’t going to accept this fake marriage for long.”

“She already did, before I ever told her the truth.”

“But you’ve changed the rules now,” Daniel interjected. “It will matter.” He paused, then said shrewdly, “I can see you’re different since returning from India. You’re no longer so controlled, so repressed.”

“It’s a good feeling,” Matthew said.

“It can be a deceptive feeling,” Daniel added. “Don’t be misled.”

Christopher stood up and looked at Daniel. “We’d better go. Abigail tells me that your wife brought your violin. Aren’t you and your mother performing together tonight?” he asked with a smirk.

Matthew sat still as he watched them leave, feel
ing uncomfortable and not knowing what to do about it.

When he and Emily retired that night, she threw herself into his arms with eagerness. Their lovemaking was passionate and thrilling, and even though he was exhausted, he wanted her again more than he thought possible. But she fell asleep with her back to him, perched on the far edge of the bed.

After eating breakfast together and attending church as one big family, Daniel, Christopher, and their families left for London. Matthew stood under the portico, arm lifted as he gave a final wave goodbye. One by one the others drifted inside, until only Emily remained with him.

“You will miss them,” she said. “Perhaps you should have gone to London with them. I’m so busy here, I wouldn’t have minded.”

He smiled down at her. “I wouldn’t think after last night’s performance that you wanted to rid yourself of me.”

She smiled and slid her arm around his waist.

“What do you have planned for today?” he continued. “Come riding with me?”

“No.”

She spoke so swiftly that he was surprised.

Wearing a chagrined smile, she said, “I promised your sisters I would paint with them in the conservatory today.”

“Susanna can’t paint without you?”

“We’re going to discuss the plants as well. My students are studying a little botany, and it will help me to prepare. Susanna said I could show her paintings to the children.” She touched his arm, smiling, and disappeared inside.

Matthew soon found himself roaming their bedroom, feeling…restless. He didn’t want to think about Christopher’s warnings, but he couldn’t help it. He reflected that he hadn’t changed the rules in this game Emily had begun. He simply knew the truth now. She didn’t have to lie to him anymore.

Her wardrobe door was open, and he found himself absently touching gown after gown, remembering her in each, amazed that she could be so demure—and so arousing—all at the same time.

But Emily still had to lie; and so did he, if he wanted to keep his family blissfully ignorant.

And though he’d told her there would be no baby, he couldn’t guarantee it, especially not if he continued to bed her morning and night.

A gown caught on something heavy, and without thinking about it, he reached inside to free the delicate fabric. A portmanteau had been pushed to the back, and to his surprise it felt bulky. After all this time, surely she’d unpacked.

He opened it to find a stash of sewing projects, samples as well as completed articles, all packed carefully between sheets of thin paper.

He remembered Emily saying that she was an excellent seamstress, and even he could see the skill in the few pieces he looked at. Then why hide her work?

He felt another chill of memory. She’d said that she had meant from the beginning to support herself. The bag was full now; he recalled seeing her embroidering the handkerchief at the top just a day or two ago. Why hide it away—unless she planned to leave him after all?

Leave
him? That would be foolish on her part, when she was safe and comfortable right here. He’d promised to take care of her. Surely he was misreading the situation; she just hadn’t had time, since everything had changed between them, to unpack this bag of samples.

But before dinner he found himself knocking on Susanna’s door. When she let him in, he smiled at the paint spattered across the skirt of her old gown. There were sketchbooks scattered across her desk, table, and chairs. The room smelled of paint, even though she didn’t paint here, and he wondered if the laundrywomen moaned when confronted with her paint-stained garments.

“What is it, Matthew?” she asked distractedly, looking back and forth between two gowns she’d laid out on the bed. “I have to change for dinner. We’re
both
cutting it too close.”

Then he was distracted by the work he saw displayed on the open sketchbooks. Several were of Emily, maybe even done today, for she was smiling against the backdrop of the conservatory.

From behind him Susanna said, “She’s been gracious enough to pose for me often during the year. I must admit, brother, that I have seen a new vibrancy in her since your return. It is very obvious that she loves you.”

He thought he detected a hint of sadness in her voice, but couldn’t focus on it. He already knew Emily was an excellent actress, and would be able to fool anyone into thinking she loved him. But then he remembered her passion and eagerness last night, and the way she’d kissed him so tenderly. He didn’t want to think about love; it wasn’t part of what they were doing together.

But it hurt him to think of her wanting to leave him.

“I’m getting to know her all over again, of course,” he began thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed how beautiful her sewing is.”

Susanna choked on a laugh, and he turned to face her.

“Her sewing? You really must be in love with her to notice something like that.”

Not in love, but too curious and worried. “I feel like I want to remember everything about her. Is
sewing important to her? Should I be taking her to London, escorting her from one dressmaker’s shop to the next?”

“She does that quite regularly,” Susanna said with a laugh. “It is her favorite shopping trip, to see the new styles, and talk to each dressmaker. When we’re in town, it is a weekly occurrence. Dear brother, don’t tell me you want to take over for me on those trips? That would be devotion above and beyond a husband’s duty.”

Matthew laughed, leaving her to prepare for dinner, but his amusement faded as he walked back to his room. Could Emily be planning to leave him? And how could he blame her? He’d taken her as his mistress, without the security of a commitment. And she’d had no say in it, believing that her lies would condemn her in the end.

He didn’t want her to feel bad with him. He realized that her pain mattered to him. He wanted her to be happy, to be content.

Could
he be falling in love with her?

Just knowing that she was somewhere in the house made him want to be with her. He enjoyed the lively way she talked back to him, her consideration of his family and the hurt she might cause them. And knowing that he would be with her in the night, making love, made his day that much better.

Maybe this
was
love—on
his
part.

What if Emily actually did plan to leave him?

The next day, Emily sent a note to Mr. Smythe, the village curate, asking if he would mind teaching the children during the coming week. She couldn’t risk leaving the estate, not when she suspected that Arthur Stanwood had been chasing her through the woods. He’d almost caught her; she’d heard his panting breath as he ran behind her, the branches crackling. When she felt him tug at a lock of her hair that had come loose, she’d slashed behind her with the arrow, not even breaking stride. She’d hit something, but hadn’t turned her head to see if she’d wounded him.

Just as she’d reached the lawn, she slowed to a walk, and only then looked back. But she saw nothing, and didn’t linger to explore.

Why would Stanwood chase her? He’d said he would contact her about his blackmail. Maybe she angered him by not making herself available in the village. She hadn’t wanted to risk being alone with him where she couldn’t be seen.

Matthew and his father had gone for the day, and she was glad, for the more Matthew could focus on his family’s business ventures, the less time he’d have to contemplate what she might be keeping from him. She and his sisters and mother were to meet the men at Cambridge that evening for a special lecture the professor was giving, open to the public. It had been her idea that they attend as a family; Lady Rosa
acquiesced with pleasure. Susanna, Rebecca, and Emily had exchanged surprised glances behind Lady Rosa’s back. Much as the Lelands’ relationship had improved, an anatomy lecture would surely bring back bitter memories.

Yet Emily was so used to being out doing things, that remaining at the house felt constricting to her. She decided by the afternoon that a walk about the grounds—nowhere near the woods—couldn’t hurt.

The day was overcast and chilly, and she hugged her shawl about her shoulders. Gardeners worked in the various beds, and servants moved back and forth between the outbuildings and the house. As she was walking the gravel drive, a wagon came around the far side of the mansion, obviously leaving the kitchen courtyard. She moved to the side, so the driver could easily pass her.

As the wagon slowed, she looked up to give a pleasant nod—only to see Arthur Stanwood smiling in triumph down at her from the driver’s seat. He was wearing plain garments and a cap pulled down to his brow. While she stood gaping up at him, he touched the cap respectfully.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Leland.” He lowered his voice, “Or should I say—Miss Grey?”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, her shock forgotten as she looked all about her. The
servants continued to work, and no one gave them more than a glance. “Meeting your spy?” she demanded.

“I just delivered a load of coal for the kitchen,” he said, ignoring her second question. “There are so many supplies needed for an estate this size.”

“So you’ve ingratiated yourself with someone in the village, too?”

Wearing a smile, he looked about and asked, “Where are the captain’s lovely sisters? I enjoyed watching them yesterday. Such fine forms as they shot their arrows.”

She clenched her fists, her body rigid with anger and fear. But she had to hold fast to her purpose and dissuade him.

He laughed softly, and then his smile faded. “The only way you can keep me away is to raise a hue and a cry, Emily. And then everyone will want to know what’s wrong. And you’ll have to tell them. Do you want this lovely family to know what a criminal you are? You didn’t seem to yesterday. It was a shame you wouldn’t talk to me.”