Because it felt like a dream. And she didn’t want to wake up.
Chapter Five
Matthew flopped an arm over his eyes as he struggled to regain his breath. He’d never intended for this to happen when he came to the club with Robert and Hugh a few nights before. If either of them had suggested such an outcome, he would have told them they were crazy. Uncouth.
And yet here he was, body tingling from the most powerful release he had experienced in years, this woman’s sweet flavor still on his lips, and he felt…
Calm.
He flinched as that word settled into his mind. Since Angelica’s death, he’d been restless and empty. Always thinking. Sometimes it felt like always remembering. And yet in those moments when he’d been lost in this other woman, he’d felt peace.
Was that a betrayal?
As he pondered that, her hand settled against his chest. He lowered his arm and looked down at that hand. Slender fingers bunched against his body. He felt the weight of each one and wanted to feel more of it. More of those hands moving over him. And when he followed the line of her arm and looked at the beautiful woman at his side, he wanted that mouth, too. He wanted to remove that intricate mask and see her entire face when she bucked in pleasure beneath him.
And that was a betrayal, certainly. One stolen, anonymous night could be forgiven, perhaps. This strange feeling that it wasn’t enough was too much.
He sat up and caught her hand, lifting it to his lips to brush a kiss over her palm. “Thank you,” he said, hoping she would understand what he meant.
She’d had a soft smile on her face, but now that faded and she swallowed hard. “Certainly,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
There was a strange ache in his chest as he got up and began to gather his clothing. He felt her watching him as he did so, and searched for any topic to fill the now uncomfortable space in the room between them.
“Well, you can now say you’ve been in the infamous back rooms of the Donville Masquerade,” he said as he stepped into his trousers. “That is something.”
“Not something to brag about, I suppose. At least not for a woman.”
He turned and found she’d lifted the sheet to cover herself. The disappointment that flowed through him at that fact was not something he chose to ponder. “You don’t regret it, do you?”
She got out of the bed, blushing as she revealed herself once more. She put her back to him as she gathered up her dress, and he caught his breath. The sight of her bent over the gown was enough to drive a man mad.
He was turning into Robert—that was all there was to it. Crazed by desire.
“I don’t regret it,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “I didn’t know I needed it so much until…” She trailed off and tugged her dress on. “Will you button me?”
Undressing her had been a dizzying pleasure. There was no way not to brush her skin and the same would be true now. He took his time sliding each button into place and let his fingers touch her skin. She stiffened each time he did, her breath coming shorter.
He felt the throb of desire between his legs, felt his cock slowly making its way back to attention. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never been a randy wanderer, even before Angelica. Sex had been something he enjoyed, certainly, but he didn’t recall it burning in his blood like this. Making him want to take and take until there was nothing left of him or the woman in his arms.
He just didn’t understand it.
She pulled away as he fastened the last button and walked somewhat unsteadily toward a mirror affixed above the fire. She looked at herself, and occasionally her gaze flitted to him in the mirror image as she began to fix her hair.
“Do you regret it?” she asked.
He shook out his shirt. “No,” he said softly before he tugged it over his head.
It tangled briefly around the mask he wore and he managed to get himself free. But when he smoothed the fabric down, the mask was now half-cockeyed around his cheeks. He swore beneath his breath and untied it, then removed it and brushed it off.
He heard her gasp just as he began to lift the mask back in place. He looked up to see her staring at him. Just staring, her eyes wide with what seemed to be terror and shock. Her hands trembled and her lips were parted.
“What is it?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I-I—”
She said nothing more, but ran from the room. He stared at her retreating back and then strode after her. “Wait!” he called out, but she was already running into the increasingly crowded hall. Barefoot, he’d never catch her.
He got to the end of the hall and craned his neck, but as he suspected, she was lost in the swell of grinding bodies.
With a shake of his head, he turned back to the chamber to finish fixing himself. As he did, his mind spun. She’d seen him. That was the only reason for her terror, for her quick escape.
But why? Why would she react so strongly to his face? Unless…she knew him. Or knew of him. Or he knew her. His stomach turned with the possibilities.
He sat down and began to tug on his boots. There were plenty of bored married women who came to these soirees. His stranger had told him she had once been married, that she was a widow, but that could have been a lie to hide what she currently was. She could be the wife of a friend.
Not a wife of one of his duke club. He didn’t believe that for a moment. All of them were deeply in love with their husbands, and he doubted any were lacking in pleasure in their lives.
But he had friends outside that circle. Could one of their wives have strayed only to be confronted with the horror of what she’d done once she saw his face?
That was certainly one possibility. One he found himself sick about, for the idea that he would betray a friend mixed with the concept that this mystery woman who had so set him on his heels was not…free was terrible, indeed.
However, it wasn’t the only possibility.
He got to his feet and shoved his shirt back into the waist of his trousers before he found his tangled waistcoat and jacket.
It could be she was a servant. Someone who knew his face because she had brought him tea or served him roast. The fact that he had touched her could get her sacked, at least in her mind. Or put into a compromising position where she did not get to choose her own path.
He wrinkled his brow at his reflection. That didn’t seem correct, though. The lady he’d bedded had worn a fine gown and her hair had been done like she’d had help with it. Her hands were soft—she clearly didn’t do work with them.
Still, it was a possibility.
He supposed the third option was that the woman had simply been shocked that his identity was revealed. She’d wanted an anonymous encounter and he had violated the terms of that agreement when he removed his mask for adjustment. Now she couldn’t so easily push aside what they had done. Forget it, as perhaps she wished to.
He looked at his own reflection in the same mirror she had so recently examined herself in. Whatever the reason for her quick exit, he couldn’t help but feel concern for her well-being. And he found himself smiling at his reflection.
He had intended to tell the woman that this was a wonderful night, but one he should not repeat. But now…
Well, now it would be ungentlemanly not to approach her if he saw her again.
“To reassure her,” he said to his reflection. “That’s all.”
He turned away from the liar in the mirror and made his way from the room. As he exited, a chambermaid stepped up. “Are you finished with the room, sir?”
Matthew looked off in the direction where his lady had run. Then he nodded. “For tonight, yes.”
She wrinkled her brow at the strange turn of phrase, but her questioning faded when he tossed her a coin and left her there.
He would come back. Even if he’d been telling himself he shouldn’t. He would come back and he would find the lady again. Just one more time. And then it would be over.
That was how it had to be.
Isabel shook as sobs racked her body. The carriage driver was unaware, of course, and drove on, turning down this street and that, knocking her around and making her very aware of the delicious soreness of her body that had been caused by him.
She lifted her head and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. She knew him. The magical stranger had been transformed in an instant from a gentle lover to a man she’d been told to fear for three long years. To hate. To suspect.
“How could he be Matthew Cornwallis?” she asked herself out loud. “How could he be the Duke of Tyndale?”
The tears returned and she flopped down on the carriage seat as she let them flow. Life was too cruel. It was so punishing. She had gone to the Donville Masquerade for anonymous thrills. Things to think about as she furtively touched herself in her lonely bed. Things to recall once she was married off to yet another man who would have no interest in her.
A real lover was never meant to be a part of that. Certainly not a lover who turned out to be the greatest enemy of her family.
She flashed to his mouth on her, to the gentle coaxing of deepest pleasures that she hadn’t known she could feel. Her body shuddered at just the memory, and she shoved it aside.
“No!” she snapped at herself.
She could not look fondly on that night. It was wrong to do so. At the very least Tyndale had once been her late cousin’s fiancé! That made what she’d done bad enough. But that her uncle believed him to be a killer?
“It’s too much,” she murmured as anxiety rose in her chest. “Too much.”
The carriage pulled around behind her uncle’s home as she had instructed and the hack driver came down to open the door for her. She handed him money and he looked her up and down. “You’ve been a naughty girl,” he said, his tone lewd.
She glared at him, trying to behave as if his words didn’t rattle her in an already rattling situation. “Mind your own affairs,” she bit out, and then stepped up to the gate.
She heard him laughing as she entered the garden and then ran as fast as her legs would carry her. But she couldn’t run from what she’d done. She couldn’t run from how it made her feel.
Chapter Six
“And to what do I owe this great pleasure so early in the morning?”
Matthew turned to watch as Robert entered the parlor, hand outstretched in welcome. His friend had a hint of shadow beneath his eyes and his hair was slightly tousled, as if he had been abed recently.
“It’s noon,” Matthew said with a shake of his head.
Robert shrugged one shoulder. “If you say so. I realize most people don’t keep the civilized hours I do. Would you like a drink?”
“No,” Matthew said, and couldn’t help a laugh even though he wasn’t feeling in particularly good humor today. That was what lying awake, tossing and turning, while one thought of soft sighs and intense pleasure did to a man.
And here he was. An act of desperation.
“What’s wrong?” Robert asked, his teasing quality gone, replaced by concern.
Matthew flopped himself into the closest chair. “I’m not looking forward to how much you will crow.”
Robert took a place on the settee and leaned forward. “Oh, this does sound good.”
“I’ve been going back to the Donville Masquerade,” Matthew admitted in a rush, as if he pushed all the words together that Robert wouldn’t react to them.
Which, of course, was not true. His friend’s eyes went almost impossibly wide and then his grin went even wider. “Have you now? I knew even you would be seduced by the many pleasures to be found there.”
Matthew sighed. “It isn’t the many pleasures. I went back looking for…for that woman I met the first night.”
“The one you kissed.”
“Yes.” Matthew found his foot tapping restlessly and forced himself to stop. “When she didn’t come, there was nothing found there for me. And then, last night, she returned.”
Robert lifted his eyebrows. “Pursuing one lass wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I encouraged you to get a membership at the club, but it’s better than you roaming your estate like a ghost. So you saw the young woman and then…”
This was the difficult part. Matthew had never been one to talk about his conquests. He had no intention of going too far when he did it today, either. This was not a bragging session, but a plea for help. No matter how Robert might turn it on its head.
“What do you think happened?” he asked, his voice sharper than he had perhaps intended. But then it seemed everything in his life was currently out of control.
Robert’s expression was shocked. “I’m going to hazard a guess that you bedded her.” Matthew swallowed hard, and his expression seemed to give the answer Robert required. “That is good news. Isn’t it? Why do you look like that? Why do you look more miserable than you did before? Quite a herculean feat, by the way.”
“You must understand,” Matthew began. “It’s been such a long time.”
“So you said,” Robert said softly. “Too long to be healthy. Are you saying you were terrible at it?”
Matthew smiled at the teasing in his friend’s tone. He appreciated it, actually. Robert was trying to put levity into the situation.
“I wasn’t terrible at it,” he said as he thought of his beautiful stranger’s mewls and cries of pleasure. At the way her tight, slick body had milked his until he nearly lost control and came deep inside of her.
“Then what is the problem?” Robert asked. “Please don’t tell me you are prostrating yourself on the altar of guilt and remorse just because you spent a few hours pursuing natural and healthy pleasure with a willing partner.”
“When you put it that way, it makes me sound like a fool,” Matthew said. “And I wouldn’t say prostrating myself. It’s just that…I don’t know. You, of all people, would not understand.”
Robert held his gaze a beat, and then he said, “You thought you had found the one person who would keep your heart for the rest of your life. Like the others have. You believed that your future was set. And then it was torn out from under you in the most cruel and terrible way possible. Worse, there are some who have blamed you for it. So you’ve spent all this time mourning what might have been and cursing what is. And when a young lady finally moves your…shall we say heart or cock?” He laughed. “Well, either way, I suppose it must be very disconcerting. And it must also awaken some dark and dangerous memories and feelings.”
Matthew gaped at him. “I would not have expected that summary from you.”
A ghost of a smile slipped over Robert’s face. “I do not believe in love for myself. It does not mean I discount it for anyone else. And I’m a cad, proud as hell of it, and with no intention of ever changing, thank you, but I’m not an idiot.”
“No one would ever accuse you of that,” Matthew said softly. “And yes, what you say is exactly part of it. At first, I was merely mourning. Coming to terms with what had happened to Angelica and my part in it. Then more and more time passed and it was as if I became…paralyzed by my grief, regret…my anger and my disappointment.”
“And then this girl popped up,” Robert said. “And suddenly you were awake again. Perplexing, I would imagine.”
“Quite.”
“So you came here for advice on how one circumvents all deeper feeling in the pursuit of pleasure?” Robert asked. “I am the expert.”
“No.” Matthew chuckled. “I’m here because last night, when it was all over, she saw my face. And she ran.”
Robert leaned back in the settee with a shake of his head. “My God, it’s like a novel. Or a children’s story with a very naughty twist. You think she recognized you?”
“It’s the best explanation. She knows me somehow and it terrified her. So she ran. And I…want to find out who she is. Will you help me?”
Robert arched a brow. “Me? Why would you ask me? I’m the one who would sigh in
relief if a lady ran away after making love. Makes the set down a bit easier.”
“Somehow I doubt your ego would love a woman running, practically screaming from your bed,” Matthew said. “And I’m asking you because Hugh is distracted, Kit is…dealing with his father’s illness and everyone else is—”
“Pushy,” Robert finished. “Very pushy since they married.”
Matthew nodded. “That’s one word for it. If I mentioned an interest in a woman, no matter how unsavory the beginning, they would start falling over each other encouraging me to marry for love like they have. One of us four must be the next, in their eyes.”
Robert recoiled. “Well, it won’t be me. You and I already discussed this.”
“It can’t be me,” Matthew said. “I barely allowed myself to take a little pleasure last night. I’m not thinking about forever.”
“And yet you want to find her,” Robert said.
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start. I want to find her because her reaction troubled me. I need to know why she was so frightened when she saw my face.”
“No other reason,” Robert drawled.
Matthew felt heat in his cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It was one night of pleasure—I had no expectation of anything more. You of all people should know that feeling.”
Robert held up his hands, almost in surrender. Then he smiled. “It is good to see you driven by something other than grief. I’ll help you. Only it won’t be easy. Rivers guards his membership roster jealously.”
“It’s in his best interest to do so, of course,” Matthew said. “But does that mean there’s no hope in discovering who she is?”
“I can check around, ask some questions, grease some wheels with a little blunt,” Robert said.
“I don’t need you to—”
“Don’t you dare take away my pleasure in this little game,” his friend interrupted. “I have more than enough to play. Your best bet, however, might simply be to keep going to the Donville Masquerade. She was going there before, we know at least twice.”
The Duke of Hearts Page 5
