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Della stared at him. “But you used to love this game.”
Matilda wanted to ask someone how the game was played but dared not call attention to herself. She suspected it was not a game that any decent woman would want to play.
“I’ll be the beast,” one of the gentlemen volunteered as he leered playfully at Della. “But only if you’re my burden.”
Della affected a false blush and nodded. The man got down on the floor on his hands and knees, while Della primly sat on his back as though she were riding a horse sidesaddle. The remaining gentlemen in the room all rubbed their hands in glee and laughed, all except Arthur.
“Who shall be first?” Della asked the men. The man on his hands and knees began to crawl around the room, and each time he stopped in front of another man, the man would grasp Della and kiss her soundly while his hands roamed over her body, cupping and groping in places that made her squeal with false scandalized laughter. The moment Della stopped in front of a frowning Arthur, Matilda knew she’d seen all she’d needed to and fled. This was the wild life he led in London. Kissing women in drawing rooms after dinner. It was not a life she could ever live, not even if she loved him… which she knew now that she did, and she was damned for it.
She rushed from the room and headed for the stairs.
“Mattie! Wait!” Arthur caught up with her as she reached the middle of the staircase.
“I’m going to bed,” she told him and tried to turn away.
He caught her hand, staying her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
His eyes softened. “Will you… will you wait up for me?” Arthur dared to ask. She could only stare at him. He truly expected to take her to bed after… after what she’d seen tonight?
“I… No. Not tonight.” It would be the first time they hadn’t shared a bed, and she wanted to change her mind, but she didn’t.
He nodded as if he understood. He still held her hand. “I don’t want to play any of those silly games,” he whispered. “I would rather spend my evening with you, even if we don’t…” He glanced away. “I just want to spend the night with you, damn my bloody uninvited guests.”
Until he’d said it, she hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that. She tried to smile, but it withered on her lips.
“But you can’t leave your guests. An earl doesn’t do that. Even if they are… scandalous, you must be better than they are,” she said sagely. He sighed heavily and let her go.
* * *
Arthur returnedto the drawing room and surveyed the chaos his friends had created. Friends. The word had never seemed so hollow until now. These people made him feel nothing. He’d never realized that until he’d met Matilda and she’d made him feel… everything.
“She’s more than just a tenant, isn’t she?” Ezra asked as he joined Arthur who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.
“Who?”
“The chit. I saw you follow her out there. She’s warming your bed. Well done, old boy.” Ezra smiled. “Never took you for a fellow who liked spoiling innocents. Fun, isn’t it?”
Arthur’s frown deepened. “Please do not speak of Miss Matthews that way… or at all.” Despite the fact that he’d used the word please, it wasn’t a request.
“I’d be possessive over a pretty peach like that too if I could sink my co—”
Arthur grabbed Ezra by the throat and pinned the man against the wall, leaving him gasping for breath.
“Miss Matthews is under my care and protection. Say another word to dishonor her. I dare you,” Arthur growled, and meant it. He would throttle the man if he breathed another noxious word against Matilda.
“Arthur dear,” Della’s voice called. “Leave my silly brother alone and come kiss me.”
Arthur could think of nothing he wanted to do less. He released Ezra. The man coughed and then fixed his clothes, glaring at Arthur.
“Not tonight, Della.”Not ever, he added silently. Everyone in the room stared at him in surprise at his show of violence. “My apologies, everyone, but I am weary and feeling unwell. I think I shall retire. Please enjoy the night.” He left the drawing room without another word. He doubted that they cared he’d left, and now he realized so many things he’d been too blind to see until now.
He was done with that fast crowd. He was done playing silly games. He had other desires, deeper ones. Ones that lay in the soil of the snow-covered lands outside and the stones of this house. He had responsibilities now and he’d come to cherish them.
Arthur stopped outside of Matilda’s bedchamber door, his hand raised to knock. Then, deciding against giving her a chance to send him away, he simply opened the door and stepped inside. She was still dressed and sat on her bed, a book in her hands as she read.
“Arthur, what—?”
