His answer was a grin.
He moved up, testing the limbs as he did.
A woman who was actually a few inches shorter than Willa had come to her side. “Does he realize he is endangering his life for cat?” She held a hand up to shade her eyes against the sun so she could watch Matt climb.
“I believe he does,” Willa said.
“Well, he is a better soul than I am. You children had best pray nothing happens to that gentleman.”
“Yes, Mother,” one of them said. The others were too intent on Matt’s daring kitten rescue to answer.
He climbed out on a limb. The branches shook with his movements. Willa wasn’t the only one holding her breath. He reached out. The kitten’s hold on the gutter pipe had grown more tenuous until it seemed as if the poor creature was barely hanging on by a claw.
Matt stretched his arm. Boots cried loudly as if afraid of rescue, and then Matt’s hand went around his scrawny middle. Paws flailed in the air as the kitten felt itself freed from the pipe.
A glad cheer went up. Willa was startled to see that beyond the children, they had gathered a crowd of onlookers. One man was even taking wagers on whether Matt would make it to the ground with the kitten successfully.
Anyone betting against her husband would have lost, she could have told him.
Matt swung down from the lowest branch, landing heavily. The kitten was not in his hand. The little girl looked expectantly at him and then burst into the happiest smile in the world when he reached inside his jacket and offered her Boots.
The children were well mannered. They shouted out thank-yous, looking at Matt as if he was a hero.
And he had been heroic.
How many gentlemen of his stature would have put themselves out for a kitten? Or noticed a crying child? London was full of them, and yet, he’d heard that extra note of distress.
The woman standing next to Willa said, “Thank you, kind sir. I could not have rescued our Boots. As you can see, I’m shorter than your lady. I’d gone upstairs to see if I could reach him from a window. No luck. I was about to give up.”
“These are your children?” Matt said. Willa gave him back his hat, which he set at a rakish angle on his head.
“Most of them. Two sets of twins and two others. They are a handful. It is a pity my husband wasn’t home. He’s actually a bigger man than you. He could have saved our Boots.”
“Well, I hope Boots has a long and happy life,” Matt answered.
“And that he keeps his paws on the ground,” the woman agreed. “Thank you again, kind sir.”
Matt took Willa’s elbow and, together, they walked away.
“You seem thoughtful,” he said. “What are you thinking?”
Willa wasn’t about to confess that she was a bit thrown off by the woman and her children. If her husband was close to Matt in size, well, those who had speculated on whether Willa could bear his child were wrong. All the children had appeared healthy and well-bred and their mother had been trying to save the kitten herself, which was exactly what Willa would have done . . .
She found his hand. His gloved fingers laced with hers.
“You aren’t going to share what is on your mind?” he prodded.
Willa smiled up at him. He was truly handsome, but she was beginning to notice every slightest detail about him. He wasn’t perfect, and that was good. He was as human as she, and he could admit to mistakes.
I botched it last night. I hurt you.
She still experienced some discomfort. Her muscles complained from time to time, but it was no longer a very big thing.
And, while Matt had laugh lines from the corners of his eyes, there were also shadows of worry and concern.
“I was thinking about how you like to rescue things,” she said.
His brow came up. “Like the kitten?”
Like me . She smiled. “Among others.”
For a moment, he acted struck by her words. “I suppose there is a protector in every male,” he conceded slowly.
“Not every one,” she could tell him. “My father is more of a competitor. He thrives on besting others.”
“That, too, is a male trait.”
Unbidden, Letty Bainhurst came to her mind. What had he said about her? That he’d believed he’d been rescuing him from a bad marriage?
He’d wanted to rescue Willa as well.
In fact, today, he’d been doing all in his power to help her feel safe.
Willa wondered if he saw a difference between her and Letty.
That she’d even had the thought made her angry—with herself.
Jealousy was an ugly emotion, and he’d given her no cause . . . and yet, where he was concerned, she was losing perspective. She was falling in love. And it had been effortless.
Had it happened as he sat beside her tub, obviously hungry for her and yet denying himself? Or was it because he’d been pleased to make her happy with a trip to Weeks?
Or had it been when he’d jumped to the ground from a horse chestnut tree with a kitten safely tucked in his jacket?
Actually, she’d started to fall in love with him when she’d read his book of poems.
The conversation she’d overheard yesterday between Matt and Kate came back to her. I’ve been in love. It made a bloody fool of me. No, worse, it almost destroyed me. This is better. I respect Willa.
That was what Matt had said.
Except walking down the street, her hand in his, Willa wanted the right to expect something more than respect. She wanted his love. She was far worthier of it than Letty Bainhurst had been.
They returned home. The sun was setting as they walked in the front door.
The dowager was in a flap. She’d obviously been waiting for them. “You aren’t dressed,” she said to Matt.
They had met her in the main hall. He’d just handed Marshall his hat. He spread his arms. “I obviously am.”
“But not for Dame Hester’s musicale tonight,” Minerva retorted.
“I did not promise to escort you this evening,” Matt answered. “And Willa and I have had long day.”
“Matthew, you will be sitting in a chair all evening. The only thing you have to use are your ears.”
“I will not go, Grandmother. Send for George. He likes those sorts of evenings.”
“He is coming to ride with us,” Minerva said.
“Then the problem is solved.”
The dowager was not happy. Minerva shot a dark look at Willa, as if Matt’s response was Willa’s fault.
Upstairs in the bedroom, he apologized, “She is a bit of a bully. She wants to go everywhere, even though I am newly married and wish time with my wife.”
“Perhaps you should go—?”
“No. Willa, she has to learn her place. We had a huge fight over her country party she hosts every year because she insisted on spending money I just did not have. She hammers me about realities she chooses to ignore. However, you and I have had a good day together. Is it wrong of me to want you to myself for a while longer?”
“I don’t think so.” Willa practically glowed from the idea he had enjoyed her company. “In fact, I’m claiming two points for keeping my husband to myself for another evening.”
“Three points at least,” he complained, and she laughed, earning herself a light kiss from him on top of her head.
They did share supper with Minerva, George, and another couple who were friends of the dowager’s and of her age. George was good-natured about acting as Minerva’s escort. Matt explained that George’s own wife was not comfortable out in Society, and yet, it was important to his legal practice that he be seen.
The conversation at the table covered many topics from recent funding for the wars Britain fought on two fronts to whether or not all the fuss over Madam de Staël was sensible. Willa did not say much. Her father had refused to let her be anywhere close to Madam de Staël. She knew some of the issues before Parliament but had been taught the habit of not speaking her mind.
But tonight, she felt something inside her begin to shift.
No one at the table mocked her observations. They had listened, and some had agreed.
She’d even disagreed with something Matt said. In fact, he changed his argument in favor of her thoughts.
There were few men who could do that, and she was married to one of them. The revelation was stunning. And those feeling of love grew stronger.
The company left. Before they went out the door, Minerva said, “Now, Your Grace”—Willa was starting to notice that Matt was His Grace to his grandmother when she wished to bully him and Matthew when she wheedled—“do not forget that I promised Diana Evanston you would be at her rout Saturday evening. With your duchess,” she added, a tad sourly.
Matt looked to Willa. Of course, she knew of the Evanston ball. After her wedding breakfast, it was the invitation to be had. She nodded, and he said to his grandmother, “I have not forgotten. My duchess and I will be there.” Willa had to stifle a smile. He liked referring to her as “my duchess” to his grandmother in particular.
And Willa found she liked him calling her his “my” anything. She moved closer to him.
Minerva and her friends went out the door. They were all taking the Camberly coach. However, George hung back.
Seeing that there was moment of privacy, he leaned close to Matt and said, “I have done what you asked about that matter we discussed. Men have been hired.”
Matt’s manner grew serious. “Good. Thank you.”
“Are you certain you don’t wish to let this go?”
“I’m certain.”
“Be careful.” On those words, George left.
“Men have been hired for what?” Willa asked.
“Work around the estate,” he answered with an air of distraction.
Instinctively, Willa questioned what he said, and then chided herself. True, why would a lawyer be involved in hiring workers? However, was she going to become one of those women who hovered over her husband’s every word? She prayed not.
“Sherry?” Matt asked.
“Are you having anything?”
“Port.”
“Then I will enjoy a glass of sherry with you.”
The day had been long. The preceding night had been even longer, except now it was just a memory. Willa could almost pretend last night hadn’t happened.
She and Matt sipped their drinks by a fire in the private sitting room. She kept yawning and he took pity on her and led to their bedroom, where, to her surprise, he turned her over to Annie.
The maid brushed out her heavy hair and made quick work of braiding. She carried over a nightdress for Willa.
Like all of Willa’s nightgowns, this one was of heavy material. Annie dropped it over Willa’s head and arms.
There was a knock at the door and then Matt let himself in. Annie went scurrying away.
And they were alone again—in this room, which Willa realized was becoming a bit of a sacred place to her.
He began undressing. Annie had turned down the fresh sheets, and Willa walked over to sit on the bed, very aware of every piece of clothing he removed.
Matt didn’t wear nightclothes.
“When you have a valet, we will have to work out a routine,” she said. Her voice sounded a bit breathless.
“We will.” He walked over to other side of the bed from her. “Tired?”
“A bit.” There was a pause. The mattress stretched between them. “I’m glad we didn’t attend the musicale.”
“We will never attend one of Dame Hester’s musicales.” He climbed into the bed, pulling the sheet over his hips. “Joining me?”
It wasn’t the bed that was holding her back.
It was the barrier she wore. The gown weighed heavy on her. And this was not how she wanted to be with her husband. Willa took off the gown.
She was rewarded by his smile and a quiet, “Come here.”
It was funny that she’d never known her heart could make a little leap in her chest before. He was going to wish to be intimate again. She would not like the pain, but as her mother said, this was the sacrifice women made. She might try counting backward. She climbed in the bed, and Matt drew her closer to him.
He kissed her. Their lips melded together as it was the most natural thing in the world. He rolled her on top of him, her breasts against his hard planes, her hips on his, her braid over her shoulder. He was ready for her.
The kiss deepened.
Willa was starting to learn the signs of her body. She was preparing for him, and yet, she was anxious. If letting him hurt her was what must be done—
To her surprise, Matt moved her over to his side, her back against him, his hips curving around her buttocks. “Go to sleep, Willa,” he whispered in her ear.
“But you—”
He shushed her. “Yes, I want you.” He ran his hand over the curve of her hip and down her thigh. “You are lovely, Willa. But it is too soon for you. It will happen between us. I’m willing to wait until it is as pleasurable for you as it will be for me.”
Willa didn’t know if that time would ever arrive.
And yet, it was very nice to be held this way. To feel protected and valued.
When she fell asleep, she dreamed about children.
Matt lay awake watching Willa sleep, a sign that she trusted him.
He moved her braid so that it wouldn’t catch under his body and wake her.
He felt humbled. Today had been fun. His petite wife had a lively intelligence.
Yesterday, at the wedding celebration, Soren had taken him aside to tell him that he was a lucky man. That Willa Reverly would be the sort of wife who would be an honest companion. She would enhance his life, he’d said. “And bring out the best in you.”
“You are telling me this because . . .” Matt had prodded, a touch offended.
Soren had given him a hard look, an exasperated one. “Because I fear you don’t realize how bloody fortunate you are. You believe your title is a gift to her, and in exchange for the money her father has settled upon you. But the truth is, Matt, Willa is a far better woman than you deserve.”
At the time, with the headiness of the wedding celebration around him, Matt had shrugged off his groomsman’s comments. Although it wasn’t like Soren to give advice.
Now, beside Willa in bed—and remembering her gratitude toward him after she’d finally seen the tarantula or the admiration in her eyes when he handed the kitten over to the child—Matt realized Soren might be right.
The expression on Willa’s face had made him feel heroic.
I was thinking about how you like to rescue things . That was what she had said. Her comment had summed him up.
Ever since his earliest memory, he’d wanted to make the world right. To please everyone. His parents’ back-to-back deaths had only reinforced his need to desire to take care of those close to him. And when the circumstances were impossible, well, he wasn’t his best self.
However, watching the sleeping woman beside him, he realized he had lost his way some time ago. Well before Letty.
As a boy, he’d been caught between loyalty to his sisters and absent grandparents whom he’d felt obligated to please, but never could.
At last, he understood what Soren had been saying.
His behavior before the wedding toward this vibrant woman had been boorish. She was giving him a second chance . . . and she might be the person to help him become the man he wished to be. She had the strength of character to both test and challenge him, and he found he always wanted her to look at him as she had that afternoon when he’d rescued the kitten.
Always .
Chapter 10
The next several days wer
e idyllic for Matt. He was now doing what he should have been doing before the wedding—he was learning to know his wife.
They spent time with Dewsberry and his countess before they left for Cornwall. There were jaunts to museums and exhibits and a night at the theater. Everything was light and relaxed.
Willa asked if they could attend a performance of Kate’s troupe, even if they had to travel a bit. Matt was ashamed to admit it had been years since he’d attended one of his sister’s plays. Another failing of his brought to light. “After the Evanston rout, we’ll search out where her troupe is.”
They also spent two days at Mayfield. Matt proudly introduced Willa to his tenants. He was also pleased to share what he’d learned about agriculture and the details of his estate. See, he wanted to say about those months in the country, he hadn’t just been pining for Letty Bainhurst, he’d been trying to do good.
He didn’t know why he thought of Letty in that moment, except he sensed part of Willa’s shyness around him was because of the infamous affair. She didn’t bring it up, but there were times she nailed him with her direct insight and other moments when he sensed she held back.
They slept beside each other. Willa no longer questioned the practice and she seemed relaxed with his presence, a sign of trust, he hoped . . . because his regard for her grew with every passing day.
His self-inflicted celibacy had heightened his awareness of her. It also meant he had to truly pay attention to her. And there were moments, especially when she slipped her hand in his, that he felt a contentment he’d never experienced before. Since he first attracted the notice of women, they had let him know they liked the way he looked. He’d rarely had to work for their approval.
But he had to work for Willa’s. And she demanded more than those women had. She valued character. She was remarkably perceptive to the smallest nuance, and yet guarded. He didn’t understand the roots of her doubts. He knew it wasn’t because of her rough initiation into sex. She didn’t seem to hold a grudge against him; however, he was determined to use his better nature to please her.
The morning of the Evanston rout, the one Minerva had hounded them over, they went on a picnic by the River Lea and did a bit of fishing. Willa wasn’t missish at all. She baited her own hook and even attempted to push him into the water. Their laughter had echoed around them.
The Duke That I Marry: A Spinster Heiresses Novel Page 13
