Page 42 of Wed By Proxy

“Oh, but you will spend the night here with me?” she asked anxiously. That definitely got his attention.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, staring intently at her.

“Of course!”

He plunked down his cup and gave a small cough. “Then I will,” he said.

Why does he look so serious? Mathilde wondered. And why was he at such pains to make it clear he did not expect his conjugal rights? She wished devoutly she had taken the chance to scan the book again before he arrived. As it was, she would have to simply do her humble best to please him. Without thinking, she tugged on the neckline of her gown, trying to provide a bit more coverage. Then she remembered she was supposed to be seducing her husband.

“That, er, gown.” Guy frowned.

“Yes? Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.

His black brows snapped together. “It, er, the fit…”His words trailed off. “It’s rather warm in here,” he said in a surprising change of subject.

“Do you want me to open a window?”

“Gods no, it’s snowing again. Only lightly,” he added, and then she thought he cursed under his breath.

“Guy—”

“What is your real name?”

“Pardon?” She frowned. “We spoke at the same time,” she said apologetically. “What did you say?”

He huffed, and stretched out his legs before him, staring down at his booted feet. “I want you to trust me,” he said in a low voice.

“I do.” She said in surprise.

“Do you?” His voice was strangely heavy. “I want you to know, that — that I understand you are under the power, the sway of another. But if you would only trust me. I want nothing more than to be your protector.”

The power and sway of another? Mathilde puzzled. Did he mean her mother? Unsure how to respond, she simply repeated. “I do trust you, Guy.”

He tipped his head to one side and regarded her a moment. “And you have no other name for me?” he asked softly.

Other name? Mathilde knew herself to be hopelessly floundering now. “Um. My middle name Therese,” she said, unable to think of anything else.

“Therese?” he repeated.

“But no one calls me that.”

“Would you permit me to?” he asked, and his tone was very strange.

She stared at him. “But I don’t want you to,” she answered honestly. “I prefer Mathilde.” She wouldn’t even want him to call her Matty, as she had urged Robin to. When she looked at him again, he looked conflicted.

“Very well,” he said, but he looked strangely disappointed.

“Do you not want me to call you Guy?” she asked uncertainly. Was that what this was about?

“Of course, you should call me by my given name,” he answered shortly.

Unable to think how else to respond, Mathilde simply took another swallow of wine. They seemed to have become mired in confusion all of a sudden, she thought.

“Perhaps I should go,” Guy said, straightening up in his seat.

“Oh, please don’t!”

“I can return first thing in the morning,” he carried on as if he had not heard her. “I should not have come at this hour.”