Matilda figured that there were already swirling rumors that didn't look to be dying down anytime soon, so she didn't need to add her deep tan to the list of things that were wrong with her. Besides, she was Miss Matilda Jones, eldest daughter of the Viscount of Roburg. She was within the public eye whether she wanted to be or not – and her list of wrongs were already growing extensive. At least, to the ton. To her family, she was just perfect.
“Would you stop staring into space like that?”
“I'm not.”
“Yes, you are.” The young girl to the left of Matilda bumped her parasol into Matilda's, trying to get her attention. Matilda blinked and looked at her. “You always get like that when you're thinking too deeply. And when you're thinking too deeply, you tend to get a little crazy.”
Matilda frowned at her. Her sister, Elizabeth, was an enigma. In all the eighteen years Matilda had known her, Elizabeth was still very hard to figure out. Pure and innocent to a fault, there were times like this where Elizabeth seemed much older than her years and Matilda would end up feeling like the younger of the two despite the two-year age difference between them. Elizabeth rolled her honey-brown eyes into the air before letting them fall on Matilda. Eyes they shared yet looked so different.
“Crazy?” Matilda huffed. The sun was beginning to penetrate her parasol, a sure sign that midday was nearing. The hustle and bustle around the port increased as if in response to it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” Elizabeth shook her head. Before them, their parents stood, talking to each other and paying neither of them any mind as they waited for their carriage to arrive. It couldn’t come quickly enough. “I bet you think everyone is talking about you, don’t you?”
“Because they are,” Matilda said without hesitation.
What use is there in denying what is so clearly true?
Matilda had been the highlight of the gossip before they left on their trip and six months out of the public’s eye was bound to stir those same topics. “It’s fine though.”
“Ah, so you say.” Then Elizabeth sighed heavily, which caused their father to turn around. The Viscount of Roburg was a kind gentleman, but when it came to his daughters, he could be as strict as they come. Elizabeth didn’t bother to wait for him to chastise her; she merely absorbed the look he gave her and murmured a quick apology.
Matilda smiled. “A sure sign that you really shouldn’t be worried about me. We’re here for the London Season, remember? We’re here to find you a husband. You’re right. No one cares about little old me, so focus on finding yourself someone to marry, all right?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest but Matilda shook her head. Just then, their carriage rolled to a stop before them, blocking her view of the bustle happening on the other side of the road. Every time she came to the port of London, she was always taken aback by the sheer vibrancy of the place, the mingling of everyone regardless of rank beneath the bristling sunlight, and the smell of the sea. The Viscount indicated to the carriage, motioning to the ladies to get on board.
“If you wish,” Elizabeth murmured. She smiled warmly at the carriage coachman who had come to escort her on, but the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. Matilda knew the object of her sadness, but there was simply nothing they could do about it. There was no use worrying about her.
Matilda was about to accept the waiting hand of the coachman when something collided into her. She went crashing into the ground, the breath flying out of her lungs. A blast of heavy cologne slammed into her nose, but Matilda didn’t wait around to see who it was. It was a man, that much she was sure of. And she was currently sprawled out on the floor with him lying on top of her.
In public!
Without hesitation, she pushed him off her and got to her feet. She didn’t accept the help of the coachman, only hopped into the carriage and pulled the curtains close, blocking out the man – and all the faces of those who might have seen such a terrible debacle.
“Oh, my goodness!”
Matilda focused her eyes in front of her, trying to will away the furious blush that stained her cheeks in embarrassment. Her sister wasn’t making it any better, her chuckles growing louder by the second as she struggled to contain them beneath her hand. “I cannot believe that just happened to you. You were knocked flat on your bum, Matilda!”
“I cannot believe that happened either.” Safe in the carriage, Matilda buried her face in her hands. “Do you think anyone saw?”
“Matilda, dear, I think everyone saw,” Elizabeth laughed. “He was actually quite handsome too.”
“I don’t care if he’s handsome,” Matilda groaned. She laid her head on the side of the carriage and when she did, she could hear her father’s voice outside. Matilda listened to an unknown voice repeatedly apologize while her father laughed and told him it was quite all right. Shame washed her cheeks. “I can’t leave this carriage. We need to go.”
“Calm down, will you?” Elizabeth said, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m sure no one realized it was you and even if they did, they’re bound to forget about it soon enough. It all happened so fast anyway.”
“Elizabeth, do you hear yourself? This is London. No one forgets anything.”
Elizabeth said nothing to that, looking at her lap instead. Matilda, though horrified, couldn’t help continuing to listen to the profuse apologies happening on the other side of the carriage. Silence fell over the carriage itself, Elizabeth now lost in her own thoughts.
Suddenly the door opened, and her father got in. He was all grins, amusement lighting his eyes and Matilda, without thinking, shrank into the seat.
“Well, Matilda,” he said, his gruff voice filling the carriage instantly. “It seems you’ve made quite the return.”
Matilda could only groan while Elizabeth chuckled once more. Stephen Jones, the Viscount of Roburg, was a handsome gentleman who had aged gracefully, the sort of man who could easily garner the attention of the young and the old alike. He had a marvelous sense of humor and the ability to pull even the most socially-awkward person into a riveting conversation.
Matilda wouldn’t be surprised if that was one of the reasons why he had spent so long out there talking to the stranger. His brown hair, though graying, was the only thing Matilda adopted from him.
Matilda and her mother were the only two who didn’t laugh at that, although Matilda couldn’t remember the last time Louisa Jones, the Viscountess of Roburg, laughed at anything. She kept up conversation when she needed to but when she wasn’t talking, it was like she wasn’t even present, like now. She sat to the side of her husband, staring out the window with a bland look on her face.
When she was younger, Matilda remembered her mother to be a smiling lady, until a few years ago when all that changed. To this day, she still didn’t know why that was. Even being so stoic, her mother was gorgeous in her age, with shining black hair and those honey-colored eyes she passed along to her daughters.
No one looked at her except for Matilda, half-hoping that her embarrassing encounter would bring some sort of reaction out of her. She got nothing. As the carriage started off, her mother didn’t look away from the window and silence fell over the carriage once again, each person growing lost in their own thoughts.
Quite a return indeed. Now she could add embarrassing tumble at the port to her list of scandals, but Matilda didn’t think anything could top the very thing that had driven her to her current position, taking a back seat during this London Season. Though she was already twenty, there could still be a chance to find a husband. But she gave up on that a long time ago. She had a new hope for her life now – to help her sister through this Season and marry well.
“Cheer up, Matilda,” her father consoled. “He was very nice about it.”
“As he should be seeing that he was the one who ran into me.”
Lord Roburg’s brows shot upwards. “Judging by your tone, I don’t think you even realize who ran into you.”
/> Elizabeth sat up a bit straighter at that. “I saw who it was, but I didn’t recognize him. Is he someone we should know?”
“He’s definitely someone you should know seeing that he might be a potential partner in the future. That was Timothy Wilson, the Duke of Brentminster.”
Matilda’s jaw fell just as Elizabeth gasped in shock. “The Duke of Brentminster? That was him? I always thought he was an old, withering gentleman.”
Had they been in public, Lord Roburg would have chastised her for that, but since they weren’t, he simply guffawed. “Quite the contrary. That clumsy, young gentleman was apparently chasing after a couple of robbers who had stolen a lady’s purse.”
“Oh, how gallant of him!”
“Quite so.” Lord Roburg’s eyes glinted at Matilda. “There’s no need to be so embarrassed, Matilda dear. It was his fault. He wasn’t watching where he was going.”
“That’s right.” Elizabeth wiped the awe from her face long enough to nod in agreement. “I reckon no one even noticed you. They were probably too focused on the gentleman who had been chasing after two thieves and bumping into people in the meantime.”
“It’s fine, everyone,” Matilda said on a sigh. She cast the thought aside. “It doesn’t bother me any longer. It was just a moment of embarrassment, that’s all.”
“That’s my girl,” her father smiled approvingly, but Matilda had no doubt he was still laughing about the entire ordeal in his head.
But she was right. It was merely a moment of embarrassment. Nothing compared to what she would be forced to endure when the Season officially started, and she was expected to be by Elizabeth’s side as support and counsel as she went through the near-rigorous process of finding a husband. She would have to harden her heart to such things.
Matilda looked over at Elizabeth. Her sister was staring out the window, oblivious to Matilda’s stares. A pang of protectiveness lanced her and Matilda itched to hold her hand. Instead, she folded it in her lap. So much had happened over the past year, so much that couldn’t be forgiven nor forgotten.
Now that her mother had sunk even further into herself, her father had become more determined than ever to find Elizabeth a suitable partner, and Matilda was forced to resign to life as a spinster. To be known as the lady who bore a son for an unknown gentleman, Matilda had little other choice but to be alone.
But she wasn’t alone. A young child awaited their arrival at the manor. And after six months, she didn’t want to leave his side again.
Chapter 2
Matilda could admit to herself that if there was one thing she hated about the Season, it was dress shopping. She had to endure it during the last Season, standing as still as a mannequin as tailors flitted around her and fitted her into dresses that would undoubtedly go out of style by the next year.
She had sucked it up, going through the motions and enjoying what was at least bonding time with her mother and her sister. Now, it may as well only be her sister present since her mother merely sat to the side in her silence.
“What do you think about this one, Matilda?”
She was smiling before she even saw the dress. The moment she did, Matilda gasped. The soft-green silk gown her sister held against her body brought out the color of her gorgeous eyes. She smiled at herself in the mirror, excitement radiating off her in waves as she modeled it for Matilda. “Well? What do you think?”
Matilda cocked her head to the side, frowning a little. She placed a finger on her chin in thought. “Are you sure you want to go with that color?”
Elizabeth’s smile fell the same time her jaw did. “What do you mean? I thought you liked the green. Do you really not like it? Do you think I should just not wear it to the ball?”
Matilda chuckled. “I’m only jesting, Elizabeth. You look beautiful. Don’t you think so, Mother?”
Her mother looked up on cue. A fleeting smile spread across her face and she said, “You look lovely, dear,” in the most monotonous tone that Matilda regretted asking in the first place. Matilda thought her mother should come along because it would look better for Elizabeth if she wasn’t only accommodated by her scandalous sister, but that was as far as her usefulness went. Matilda was the only one of the two of them truly providing Elizabeth any support, as she knew she would be.
Elizabeth’s face fell a little, but not for long. She turned to the seamstress who had been hovering nearby and smiled warmly. “Thank you very much for allowing me to try it. I’ll take the other dresses I’ve ordered now.”
“Yes, Miss Jones.” The seamstress hurried to take the dress from her hands.
“I cannot believe the first ball of the Season is almost here,” Elizabeth gushed once again. She’d been saying as much since they broke fast this morning and Matilda didn’t think she would be stopping any time soon. Her excitement was heartwarming.
“I don’t think you’ll really believe it until you’re having your first dance.”
“Oh, I’m so excited! Do you think my dancing card will be all filled up?”
“Elizabeth, have you looked yourself in the mirror? You’re absolutely gorgeous. What gentleman in their right mind wouldn’t want to dance with you?”
“Oh, stop it.” Elizabeth blushed. “I only wished you would be able to join me.”
Matilda instantly stiffened. They weren’t alone in the shop. Other young ladies waiting for their dresses for the upcoming ball were around, young ladies who knew of Matilda’s scandalous status. “If only,” she said, hoping she would leave it at that.
It was wishful thinking. Elizabeth may sometimes seem like the wisest lady in the room, but more times than not, she was as dense as they came. “Oh, it’s so unfair. Why do people care so much about such foolish things like that?”
“It’s our society, Elizabeth. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
“I suppose,” she sighed dejectedly. “It’s still very unfair.”
“Let’s drop this. Let’s focus on the ball. Is there anyone you have your eyes set on?”
Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “There is one gentleman I’ve been dying to meet. I’ve heard so much about him from the other ladies.”
“Other ladies? What other ladies?”
“What do you mean? You don’t think I have friends?”
“I think you’re as much a recluse as I am.”
“I am not!”
Matilda chuckled into her hand, not so much minding the eyes that fell on them at Elizabeth’s outburst. “If you say you have friends, then I’ll believe you. What have these friends of yours been saying?”
“Hmph.” Elizabeth cocked her chin, but the excitement didn’t waver. “He’s a Marquess. I’ve never met himself, but I’ve always heard of how handsome and dashing he is. The sort of gentleman who could sweep you up off your feet.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh! He must be a lot like the Duke of Brentminster! Do you remember him?”
Matilda resisted the urge not to groan. “How could I forget him? You hardly allow me to. Any chance you get to mention him, you take it.”
“I can’t help it. It’s not every day a Duke runs into you chasing after robbers. Don’t you think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?”
“I would,” Matilda murmured. “If there was any romance involved at all. I doubt I’ll meet him again after that encounter and if we ever do, he won’t even recognize me.”
“I doubt that. No one can run into my gorgeous sister and resist her beauty.”
Matilda couldn’t help but laugh at the determined way she said that. “Let’s forget about me. We were talking about your Marquess.”
“He’s not my Marquess—”
“Miss Jones?” The seamstress returned with her dresses, holding them out to her.
“Oh, thank you very much. I can’t wait to try them all.”
The seamstress beamed at that then hurried off to tend to someone else. Matilda casted a quick glance at her mother who had automatically rose
when they did and began making her way to the exit alongside them. She was barely present, Matilda mused, and definitely not talking.
“Is that her?” said a voice behind her.
“I think so. She does bear the markings of a mother, don’t you think?” The other person that spoke had a voice as light as a whisper.
“I’m getting that feeling as well. She doesn’t think she can partake in this Season, does she?” said the first person, who didn’t seem to care to keep her voice down.
The second lady mimicked the first, her words dripped in disdain. “She would be mad to think such a thing.”
Matilda didn’t bother to turn around. They were things she had heard many times before, things she was yet to get used to. Even so, she knew there was nothing that could be done about it, but she couldn’t help the way she began hastening toward the exit. They were bound to turn the conversation to Elizabeth if she lingered too long.
“Excuse me?” came another voice that was all too familiar.
Matilda came to a halt at the voice. Was that…
Her mother turned to the ladies who had been whispering animatedly about Matilda. Her face remained blank, her voice dry. But her eyes latched onto them with such intensity, Matilda almost shivered.
“Do you not deem it unladylike to gossip about someone when they are present?” she asked them. “I do hope you don’t plan to bring such abhorrent manners to the upcoming ball or there is no way you’ll be able to snag a husband. Continue in such a way and you might end up a spinster as well. I’m sure you wouldn’t like that now, would you?”
Her mother didn’t spare them the chance to respond. She swiveled on her heels and left, opening her parasol with such perfect flourish that it left Matilda and Elizabeth gaping in her wake. They recovered quickly enough and followed behind her, not bothering to see the affect her words had left on the gossiping ladies. They didn’t say anything, not until they were all in the carriage once again.
Unleashed Desires 0f A Noble Lady (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 27
