AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And me? What role do you see that I play in this new plan for you?”
“I am returning to London after the holidays. My life is there, as are my friends, but when I come here to visit… I would like to see you.” His fingers on her shoulders tightened slightly, as if he wished to pull her into his arms. “I am making no demand of you, Mattie. You can refuse to see me when I visit. Your decision will not change the stipend or the renovations. Your home is here. Your life here is safe. Do you understand?”
She nodded. Ten days ago, that would have felt like such a victory. But now her throat felt as though she’d swallowed broken glass. Her home was safe, her life was safe, but her heart wasn’t. This carelessly handsome, hedonistic rogue had claimed it and seemed not to even know he possessed it. He must own a thousand hearts of poor women like her.
“Thank you, Arthur,” she managed to say.
His smile broadened with relief. “Shall we go home now?” he asked.
Home. How one word held so much power, Matilda would never know.
“Yes, let’s go home,” she agreed.
* * *
Arthur was pleased.He had found remodeling the cottage to be highly rewarding, as well as engaging his interest in design. He hadn’t known he had a talent for it until he’d run his plans by one of his architects and they’d agreed the new design would give the cottage a fresh feel. It would also increase the value and the use of the property, of course, but he wasn’t as concerned about that as he’d once been. Instead, he was pleased with the idea that Matilda would have a cozy house, a stable, a place to have a dairy cow and chickens, even her own bedchamber. It was not everything he wished he could give her, but it was a start.
He could not treat her like his other mistresses, move her to a quaint love nest in London and drape her with jewels and gowns. She was not the sort of woman who would have endured that life, let alone thrive. While she had agreed to the terms of their arrangement, their affair was private, something between only the two of them. But if she joined him in London, the beau monde would learn of her. She would feel the weight of her own embarrassment as his mistress as a unbearable burden.
Arthur didn’t like the thought of that. Yes, it was the way of the world for men to have mistresses and suffer no consequences, but it bothered him to think of the women in such positions. Hunger and financial desperation and dependence were not sins, yet men readily painted women as wicked for doing what they had to in order to survive.
Arthur could not change his own past, nor could he change the sort of man he was, a man with passions. But he could change his treatment of the women he spent time with. And it would start with Matilda. She would have her home back, with no fears of rent or eviction. In return, he would enjoy these last few days with her and give her back her freedom. He just wouldn’t let himself think of that future day when he left. No, he wouldn’t think of it at all.
As he and Matilda reached the road that led to the hall, he was stunned to see a number of coaches pull into the driveway at the front entrance of his home.
“Arthur, who is it?” Matilda asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” He rode his horse to the front steps ahead of her and spotted several men and women already clustering in the entryway of Castleton Hall. He was about to call out and ask what the meaning of this was when a familiar voice boomed.
“There you are, Brynny!” Ezra Cowper, one of his friends from his London set, charged down the steps to greet him. Ezra was in his early thirties and built like a prizefighter despite his life of leisure. Arthur dismounted and met him with a hearty handshake.
“Ezra, what the devil are you doing here?” Arthur asked.
Ezra’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief. The man was his friend, but he was also a notorious gambler and rabble-rouser. Wherever he went, some form of trouble followed.
“We all agreed London was no fun without you, old boy. So we came here for Christmas, since you offered.”
“What are you talking about? I never—”
Ezra slapped his shoulder. “You said, ‘You really should visit sometime,’ and went on and on about how dull this place was going to be. So we took you at your word, and we’re here to rescue you from your dreary fate.”
“How many of you came?” Arthur asked, a little worried. His usual London set was a fast group of ladies and gentlemen who flitted from one social adventure to the next like butterflies.
Ezra chuckled. “Only half a dozen of us this time.” His eyes then strayed to something behind Arthur, and Arthur turned to see Matilda sliding out of her saddle and giving the reins to a waiting groom. “Well, well. Who is that charming creature?” Ezra asked him, his eyes devouring the sight of her.
“That is my tenant, Matilda Matthews. She and her aunt are staying in my home as guests while I renovate their cottage.”
“Tenant? You have a tenant, Castleton? How quaint.” Ezra’s gaze narrowed in a predatory way on Matilda. Arthur put a hand on his arm.
“Leave that one be, Ezra. She’s a gentleman’s daughter and lives with her aunt. She is not for the likes of you, understood?”
“Oh fine,” Ezra grumbled. “You are losing your bit of fun now that you’ve been landed with that title of yours.”
“Trust me, my friend. I’m still fun.” Arthur thought of all the wicked things he and Matilda had done last night in his large copper tub. He had enjoyed bathing with her and making love to her in the hot water. There had been something wonderful about cradling her in his arms and stroking her with a soapy sponge. He found her ticklish spots and tortured her with his fingertips until she’d begged for mercy. The mere memory made him have to hide a smile.
“My lord?” Matilda spoke. His body tightened instinctively, since she usually only called himmy lordwhen he was buried deep inside her.
“Matilda, allow me to introduce my friend, Ezra Cowper. Ezra, this is Miss Matilda Matthews.”
