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“Good day, Master?” she asked.
“Aye.” He did not elaborate.
“I need ink and paper. Do you have any?”
“Why?” He was busy emptying his pockets onto the table.
“I must continue the illusion of my absence. I promised to write to my maid Estelle. I’m supposed to be with my cousin.” She drew up a chair at the other end and moved a candleholder closer.
Matthew seemed perplexed by her request. He scratched his head. “There might be some...” He rummaged around the dresser and from behind a pile of pewter plates, he retrieved an inkpot. The pen was in a drawer. The note paper was buried in the bottom of a chest.
He sniffed it. “Not the finest paper, but clean.” He handed it to her.
Matthew was not a reader or writer. He had not written a word since her arrival and had paid scant attention to the books left in the corner of the room.
She composed a suitably colourful tale of her journey—how she had ridden through the storm unaided and eventually reached her cousin’s house. An older cousin with a husband and young children. Dara described the games she played with them, the walks and rides, the visit to the coast, a trip to the local town to buy dresses, and so forth. She blew the ink dry and reread her lengthy letter. If she were still stuck and alone at Willowby Hall, such things would have tempted her away with ease. The truth was, her cousin was boring, her husband miserable, the children disobedient, the servants rude, and the neighbours just as bad. She glanced over to Matthew, who was counting his coins. She was much happier here, for the most part. Only one problem was on the horizon and she was not sure how best to handle it.
She folded the letter several times until it fitted into her palm, then sealed it with a drop of candlewax. There were no ribbons to tie around the paper, which was unfortunate, since her cousin was bound to use them. She wrote the address on the front.
“It will need delivering.”
“Lemuel can drop it at the gatehouse when he moves the sheep that way tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She placed the letter next to his pile of coins.
He frowned at the address. “You don’t miss home?” he asked brusquely.
“No,” she replied emphatically. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “I’m happy here. Except...”
“What?” He turned, trapped her wrist in his hand, and plopped her onto his lap.
She lowered her eyes demurely. “I do miss the company of ladies.”
“For the purpose of gossip?”
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t stoop to that. I mean tittle-tattle and useful advice... advice that is womanly in nature. I don’t think you can provide me with those things, not without causing you embarrassment, and I would not wish to undignify you.”
He laughed. “As undignified as fucking you? I’ve seen you grovel on your knees for my cock in your mouth, begging for it. Only last night, when I stuck it—”
“Yes, I remember.” She squirmed with discomfort but not at the memory of the pleasure he had bestowed upon her, but that she wanted to return to that moment again and swiftly. He had no shame for what they did, but there had to be one thing that he would not do. “Could I go visit Maggie this week? From tomorrow, likely would be good, then come back in a few days... I shall learn much from her.” Her doleful eyes collided with his coal black ones. They shared the gaze silently.
Matthew patted her legs. “Of course you may go. You’re not my prisoner. You can leave any time.”
“I’ll come back. It’s not that I wish to leave your side, only necessity will keep me gone.”
He raised his dark eyebrows. “Necessity? Well, if it must. When that necessity is done, you can come back here and fulfil your other necessities. Come Sunday, you’ll be making up for them.” His cock stirred and poked her bottom through her skirts. “Tomorrow, you say?”
“Or the day after.”
“Maggie will enjoy your company. She’s used to young ladies’ needs. I’m sure she’ll treat you kindly. You must take her something, though, if you intend to burden her with your necessity.”
“What would you suggest, Master?”
“One of them books. You read to those sisters, teach them words. They have none.”
“They can’t read?”
He tapped her chin with his finger—a tiny rebuke for her ignorance. “They haven’t had your good fortune. So take a book and show them.”
