“Do you want to place a wager, Mildred?” Amelia said. “Fifty pounds if she weds Lord Arnsbury. I’ll give you the same if she does not.”
Lily gaped at the venture, appalled they would suggest such a thing.
“Prepare to lose, Amelia,” Lady Wolcroft said. “For I intend to give every last penny of your wager to Lily.”
“We shall see about that,” Lady Castledon answered with a smile.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next morning, Matthew rode out alone while the other gentlemen went on the hunt. He had no interest in fox hunting, and Lily had promised to meet with him later today. The autumn air was crisp with the scent of damp leaves and an underlying chill. He could see traces of his breath in the air as he rode toward Penford.
Matthew spied Lily approaching with her footman, and she smiled when she saw him, lifting a hand in greeting. Her hair was tucked up beneath her black hat, and she wore a deep-green riding habit. The color accentuated the red undertones in her brown hair. He slowed his horse until he reached her side, and pulled the stallion parallel to her mount. “Good morning.”
“And to you.” Lily’s smile remained, and a faint blush rose upon her cheeks. “I see that you decided not to join the others in the hunt.”
“Cousin Amelia thought I should spend time with you instead. I agreed with her.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Lily motioned for her footman to ride ahead to Castledon, giving them privacy as they rode at a slower pace over the next few miles. It took nearly an hour, and she relished being in the company of the man she loved.
“Will you check on Mathilda once we arrive?” he asked.
Lily appeared embarrassed. “I know nothing about chickens, Matthew. I do hope she isn’t dead yet. I should hate to disappoint Verity.” She winced and added, “But yes, I will see if she has improved at all.”
The air of trouble lingered upon her face, and he asked, “Is everything all right, Lily? How is your mother?”
She tried to shake away her mood. “The same as ever. But there is something I wanted to talk to you about. I received a letter yesterday from your cousin Adrian.”
Matthew stiffened at the mention of the blackguard. No doubt his cousin was attempting to spread more stories in an effort to gain control of Arnsbury. But he forced himself to ask, “What did he say?”
Lily slowed the pace of her horse as they drew nearer to Castledon. “He warned that you have been lying to me, and said that he is the rightful Earl of Arnsbury.” She turned to him. “Matthew, what is he talking about? Why would he say something like this?”
Anger flared within him, but he kept a tight control over it. The last thing he wanted was to frighten Lily. Instead, he kept his voice calm.
“Adrian has been jealous of me all his life. There are some rumors that he’s trying to feed to raise himself up—primarily for his own monetary gain. He can never be the earl, and he knows this.”
Once they arrived, Matthew dismounted and summoned a groom. Then he helped Lily down from her horse. The groom took both animals away, and Matthew guided her toward the kitchen gardens to have a moment to speak in private. The herb gardens were withering away in the frozen air, but there were still a few patches of rosemary and mint. A gravel pathway led through the gate, and he stopped at the edge of the garden.
“My mother and father struggled for many years to have children,” he told her. “Adrian wants everyone to believe I am not their legitimate heir.”
He didn’t reveal the possibility that it could be true, for he had few answers right now.
Lily took his gloved hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “I am sorry he is causing trouble for you.”
“I won’t allow him to spread rumors that will harm my mother.” He suspected Adrian’s letter was meant to sow the seeds of doubt in Lily so she would not consider marrying him. It seemed he had no choice but to return to London to put a stop to his cousin’s schemes.
For now, he wanted to distract Lily from her worries. He lifted her wrist to kiss it and caught the scent of oranges. “You smell delicious,” he said, pressing his mouth to the underside of her wrist.
“It was a breakfast indulgence,” she admitted. “Oranges are Mother’s favorites, and James managed to get some from Italy, though I’m not certain how.”
He lowered her hand, softly stroking the pulse point of her wrist. But before he could answer, a resounding gunshot broke the stillness. Then another.
Lily jolted at the sound. Matthew dropped down, instinctively shielding her, though he was certain the shots were not close to them. She was trembling with fear, and the sight of her terror transformed him.
His heart pounded, and a rushing noise filled his ears, though there was silence surrounding them. It felt as if the rest of the world fell away, and he was plunged into an icy cold pool of memories.
The unwanted visions roared through him with the force of a locomotive. His vision blurred, and he was dimly aware of Lily’s presence. A dull rumbling resounded, and the echo of the gunshot reverberated in his mind. Lily’s face twisted into the face of his torturer.
Tell me where your soldiers are, and your pain will end.
I do not know.
Then the horrifying agony of white-hot pain made his back seize. He closed his eyes, trapped within the nightmare. Just as before, he felt as if he were drowning, caught up in a prison of the past. Even his skin was wet, though he could not tell if it was sweat or rain.
But this time, the scent of oranges broke through the nightmare.
He clung to the aroma, and a part of him became aware that he was not in India, but in England. The mossy ground beneath his fingertips was not desert sand, and he struggled to fight off the vision. The muddy scent of the earth, coupled with the falling rain, forced him to see the truth.
It isn’t real.
Someone was speaking to him, and he fought hard to listen to the words.
“Matthew, you’re safe,” he heard Lily say. “I am here.”
He lowered his face to her wrist, breathing in the scent of oranges again. The citrus tang pulled him back until his awareness returned. He breathed slowly, steadying his heartbeat. Her hands smoothed his damp hair, and he held her close, forcing his mind to be still.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I should ask you the same.” Her worried hazel eyes stared at him. “I was startled by the gunshots, though I should have expected them.”
“The shots reminded me of India. It provoked another memory.” He realized they were both sitting on the ground. It was raining steadily now, and Lily’s hair was damp against her throat. He needed to take her inside, out of the bad weather.
“But this time, it was different. You did not stay lost in your visions.” Her voice was gentle, and she took his hand in hers. “You came back to me.”
It was the scent of oranges that had done it. Or perhaps it was Lily’s presence that broke through the past. Regardless, it was a small victory to know that he had not fallen into the darkness this time.
He kissed her hand, not knowing what to say. Then she leaned down and kissed his mouth. It was reassurance and love mingled in the touch of her lips, and he deepened the kiss. He hardly cared that the entire household could see them from the windows or that they were being rained upon.
He cradled her face with his hands, savoring the taste of her mouth until at last, she pulled back. “Will you ever tell me what happened to you?”
He gripped her hand and nodded. Somehow, he felt that she was right. If he told her everything, it might help alleviate the bad memories and lay them to rest. “I will, yes.”
He stood up from the ground, helping her do the same. “But first, I would like to get out of the rain and have a glass of brandy. Would you join me?”
Lily smiled in answer, taking his hand.
Lady Castledon clucked her tongue at the pair of them when they returned inside. “I cannot believe this weather. Ruining everything, i
sn’t it? Now then, let’s get you both something hot to drink, and you will want to sit by the fire.”
“Actually, I would like to change my riding habit first,” Lily said. “But I know Lord Arnsbury wished for brandy.”
“In a moment, dear, in a moment,” the countess reassured them. “Come into the library. There’s a warm blaze going, and I’ll bring the brandy.”
Lily rather felt like she was being tossed back into a storm, for Lady Castledon took her hand and led her down a narrow corridor, followed by Matthew. It was a longer walk than she’d imagined, and the library was nowhere near the main rooms of the house. Instead, it was tucked away in the west wing, in its own corner.
Inside, she found it to be much nicer than she’d imagined. As the countess had promised, there was a bright fire in the hearth, as well as a chaise longue with comfortable pillows. Lady Castledon poured them each a glass of brandy, though Lily would have preferred hot tea.
“Now, if you’ll sit here and relax, I’ll see to it that you have some food.” Lady Castledon smiled warmly and walked back to the door.
“I’m really not that hungry,” Lily protested.
“Nonsense. I will send a footman with food. Wait here.” And with that, the countess left the room, closing the door behind her. She had an air of triumph, and Lily could not imagine why.
“Is it me, or do you feel like she’s up to something?” Lily walked back toward the door, wondering what was happening. She opened it, not wanting to start gossip by being alone in the library with Matthew. It was quite possible that Lady Castledon was trying to win her bet by causing a scandal.
“If it’s Cousin Amelia, you can be sure she’s always up to something.” Matthew sipped at his brandy and leaned against the fireplace mantel.
Lily tried not to stare, but she was transfixed by the handsome planes of his face. The rain had darkened his hair, and she felt the sudden urge to touch it.
“I should probably go,” she murmured, as she reached for her own glass. Though she normally didn’t indulge in spirits, she worried about Matthew’s troubled interlude earlier. He still suffered from the visions, though it did seem that he could control them better.
She drank a small sip of the brandy, and it burned down her throat, warming her from the inside. “I’ll see if Lady Castledon has some dry clothes I can borrow.”
There came a knock at the library door, and a footman entered, carrying two large baskets. “These are from Lady Castledon, with her very best wishes.”
Lily’s suspicions heightened, for it was too soon for a servant to return with food, given the distance to the kitchen. “Isn’t the countess going to join us?”
“She must attend to her other guests. But she bade me give you this note.” The footman gave Lily an envelope and departed, closing the door behind him. Lily thought she heard an odd click, but it must have been her imagination.
“I don’t like this, Matthew. She’s matchmaking again—I’m sure of it. She and my grandmother made a wager about us.” Lily held up the note, which was sealed with wax. “She would not have had time to write this or to assemble the baskets.”
“It certainly seems that way.” He walked toward her. “Why don’t you read her note, and we’ll find out what Cousin Amelia is up to?”
Lily broke the seal and began reading.
Dearest Cousin Matthew and Lily,
Please do forgive me for interfering, but I could not stand by and allow two people so deeply in love to walk away from a life together. Lily, I know how Matthew cares for you, and Matthew, I know how long Lily waited for your return. Perhaps my methods might be rather scandalous, but I hope you might see this for what it truly is—a chance to be together.
Yours,
Amelia
“I’m almost afraid to open those baskets,” Lily said. “And what does she mean, she doesn’t want us to walk away from a life together?”
“I told her that you have not yet accepted my marriage proposal.” Matthew moved to the door and turned the knob. With a grim expression, he turned back to her. “It’s locked.”
“Oh, good Lord.” Lily lifted her gaze to the ceiling, feeling exasperated by the situation. “I cannot believe she would do this.” She had expected Lady Castledon to meddle and try to match them up together. But this was going too far.
Matthew rolled his eyes. “And of course, she chose a room far away from the rest of the house. We would have to shout to the rafters for anyone to hear us. I imagine Amelia has given the servants orders to ignore us.” He studied her. “What do you want to do?”
Her riding habit was sodden, and she stood up, shivering. “I don’t know. I need to think first.”
He noticed her discomfort and asked, “Are you cold from the rain?”
“A bit.” Lily moved a chair over beside the fire. With a sigh, she said, “Well, I suppose we should see what’s in the baskets. Perhaps it will give us an idea of how long she intends to leave us here.”
A part of her feared that Amelia was intending to keep them locked away for the rest of the afternoon. Or even worse, all night. She tried to think of how many people knew she was here and realized it was only her immediate family and Amelia. No one else had seen her.
Matthew opened the first basket and withdrew a bottle of wine. “It looks as if my cousin has packed enough food for the rest of the day.” Then he pulled out another bundle wrapped in cloth. “I believe we have bread and cheese here, some cold meats, and a cake.” One by one, he withdrew parcels and set them upon a nearby table. “One thing is certain—we won’t starve.”
Lily opened the second basket and found several vials of what looked like oil. Then there were pieces of a sponge and. . .was that a length of black silk? “What on earth is this for?”
Matthew eyed the contents of the basket and grimaced. “No one could accuse Cousin Amelia of subtlety.”
Lily had no idea what he was talking about. “I don’t understand. Why would she put this silk in here? Is it meant for a napkin? And what is this bit of a sponge for?”
Matthew’s shoulders were shaking, and he took the fabric from her. “She’s only matchmaking, Lily. It’s nothing to worry about. Don’t pay it any heed.”
But she was still curious about it. She returned to stand by the fire while Matthew unwrapped the rest of the food. A part of her knew they ought to call out for help or, at the very least, attempt an escape.
And yet, she was not entirely displeased by having a few hours alone with Matthew. It would give her the opportunity to hear what he had endured in India. She felt as if it might exorcise his demons, allowing him to share his burden. If a scandal ensued, so be it. Only a few knew she was here, and his cousin Amelia was part of the matchmaking.
Lily removed her bonnet and set it aside. Her hair was wet and hanging against her shoulders, so she removed several of the pins.
Matthew was still holding the black silk, and he approached her slowly until they both stood by the fire. “Do you want to leave, Lily? I could break the door down, if need be.”
She felt a tremor slide over her, and her skin prickled with gooseflesh. “Not yet.” Her voice came out in a whisper, and she let her hands fall to her sides. “Unless you want to.”
“Not yet,” he repeated. He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. “I know you have not yet given me an answer to my proposal. But if we stay here, it will cause talk.”
“I know it.” She drew her hand to rest upon his cheek. “But I want you to tell me about India. I need to hear it before I can marry you.”
“You may not want to marry me after you hear it,” he admitted.
“It haunts you still. And perhaps it will ease your burden if you share it.” She traced her fingertips over his rough cheeks, feeling the stubble of a growing beard. His brown eyes were fixed upon hers, and in them, she saw hunger and desire. The intensity of his gaze speared through her, and he drew his arms around her.
“Do you know why Cousin Amelia loc
ked us inside this room?” he murmured. His warm hands slid down her spine, before he cupped her hips and drew them close. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal, and her breasts peaked beneath her chemise and corset.
“I—I think so. She wanted to force us into marriage.”
“Through seduction,” he clarified. “That second basket is filled with everything necessary for lovemaking.”
Her mouth formed an O, and she blinked a moment. “Well. That wasn’t at all what I was expecting.”
He stole a kiss, his mouth nipping at hers. A hundred questions filled her mind, but she silenced them. His kiss evoked such strong memories of the past, of the man he had once been. When his tongue slid against her lips, she welcomed it, feeling the echo of desire between her thighs.
“There are extra clothes in the other basket,” he told her.
The thought was tempting, but she was still uncertain about what would happen between them. “Pour some more brandy,” she told him. “And then start at the beginning. I want to know what happened when you were in India.” She had a feeling she would need spirits to fortify her courage.
Matthew stepped back and returned to the table. He poured two glasses of brandy, handing one to her. “You should sit down, Lily.”
She chose a chair beside the fire and gestured for him to join her. He did, pulling his chair so close to hers that their knees touched. Lily took a sip of the brandy by way of a distraction. The second glass went down easier, and it warmed her throat.
Matthew set his glass on the table but did not touch it. In the firelight, she could see the troubled lines of his face and the scar across one cheek.
“James was angry with your father,” he said quietly. “George wanted him to take more responsibility, to bury himself in the affairs of the estates. Your brother was young and wanted to live his life before being shackled to the earldom.”
“He didn’t know our father was sick,” Lily said. “Or he wasn’t willing to acknowledge it.”
“I think he suspected. . .but he wanted to deny it. Both because he didn’t want the earldom, and he didn’t want your father to die.”
What the Earl Needs Now (The Earls Next Door Book 2) Page 19
