“And yet you will marry her.” Evelyn blushed. “It seems to me that a man could not consider marriage without at least some courting having already taken place. Given the circumstances of your association with Matilda, the time the two of you might have spent alone, I imagine all sorts of improper moments might have occurred by now.”
A wistful sigh escaped Evelyn as she turned to sit in a comfortable chair. “I do look forward to being an aunt one day and cuddling my dark-haired nieces and nephews.”
Good God, his father’s influence had over taken the girl’s once-promising nature. “I assure you it was not like that. She has no romantic interest in me whatsoever. Nor I in her.” He raked a hand through his hair and followed Evelyn to sit. “She bullied me to live—threatened me with all sorts of tortures. For God’s sake, she changed bandages on my wound a dozen times a week and spoon-fed me all my meals.”
Evelyn bit her lip as tears filled her eyes, but she shook her head, preventing their fall. “And in that time I am sure she learned more about you than most new brides could ever dream of knowing about their real husbands after a long and entirely proper courtship. If caring for you—grumpy beast that you can be at such times—has not caused her to flee, then she must care for you a great deal.”
“Evelyn, Matilda and I made an arrangement that will ensure she is financially well-off so that I am free of romantic misadventures while you make your come-out. I do not want any nonsense this year.”
Evelyn straightened a little. “She was always my favorite.”
He stared at his sister in consternation. Who was this creature? “You have favorites among my servants?”
“Oh, always.” She waved her hand airily. “Some dress hair better than others. Some share gossip, and a very few will never tell your secrets if they overhear them.”
He peered hard at his sister. “Which one is Matilda?”
“The latter, of course.” Evelyn blushed. “You made a wise choice in her.”
He wasn’t completely convinced he had any choice but to marry her given Evelyn’s outburst yesterday. However, for the moment he had no complaints. “Matilda is why I am here. It occurred to me that as a servant she would not possess a great many of the articles a young lady in her new situation should have.”
“That is true. I’ve only ever seen her wear two gowns. The gray she wore the other day and a muddy brown I utterly detest. As your wife, she should have a complete wardrobe of beautiful gowns made immediately. Jewel colors I think would offset her rich complexion.”
That was what he’d concluded at midnight last night. He’d been musing about the changes he’d need to make in his life to accommodate a temporary wife. He’d spent the hours after midnight debating the merits of where to keep her after the marriage too. She’d left the servants’ quarters already since she should act the part before the household staff as well as out in society.
There was only one bedchamber on the first floor. His. He’d eventually decided to keep her in the front guest bedchamber on the second floor after they married properly, so she would have a view over the rooftops of London. Her room was located directly over the drawing room where he liked to spend his evenings when at home. He would be able to hear her walking about her chamber in the late evening before he went to sleep. He would know when she was restless. He would know where she was at all times.
“I am going to need help.”
Evelyn beamed. “For this I need Audrey. We would only be too happy to take care of Matilda’s wardrobe for you.”
“No.” He wanted help, not to be pushed aside. “I want to have the final say on her wardrobe, but I would appreciate suggestions and company on a shopping expedition this morning.”
Evelyn’s brow crinkled. “You know women must be fitted for gowns in person.”
“Yes, but I will choose the styles and fabrics today. Then you or Audrey can direct me to a competent dressmaker who can hold her tongue.”
She stared at him in horror. “But William, what will Matilda say if you make all the important decisions for her?”
He expected her to accept. He had a vision in his head, an image of how he’d like Matilda to dress, that he would see come to pass. “I am confident she will comply.” William folded his arms across his chest, unwilling to be turned from his decision. “She cannot be seen about town in her current garments, so we will have to expand her wardrobe a little until we are actually married, and then she may shop to her heart’s content.”
“That is a little cold, even for you.”
“Not at all. Part of our agreement is that I fund her purchases for the next two years. She can hardly be discontent that I might choose some of it to begin with.”
“I feel so bad. I made you get married.” Evelyn winced, wringing her hands. “You don’t say you are, but are you sure you are not very annoyed about the match?”
“No. I’m not in the least annoyed about it.” He shook his head. It wasn’t a marriage meant to last, so he had no expectations. No dreams would be dashed when the mistaken affair was over. “Matilda suits my purpose.”
Evelyn punched her hands to her hips. “You are so utterly without romance in your soul. It is such a surprise to me that she said yes to you at all.”
“It was indeed. She could have made quite a scene if she’d been anyone else.” However, she’d hardly have a comparably comfortable life if married to that scoundrel Harry Lloyd, if he’d ever intended to do more than dangle a hint of a wedding ring beneath her pretty nose. William was confident he was saving Matilda from very disagreeable life indeed, which was why he’d not corrected her wild assumption of the other man’s death. With William, their eventual separation might cause a bit of a scandal in the beginning, but she would have the funds to escape to a better life in the end.
It was done, or almost done, and they would wed soon. He was rather anxious that nothing should get in their way on this unexpected trip to the altar. Undeterred by his apparent marriage, Maria Chudleigh had passed by his home in a slow-moving open carriage twice that morning that he had witnessed. She had stared at
the house, looking for signs of him or Matilda perhaps. The sooner he was squared away with Matilda as his wife, the sooner he could breathe easily.
“Better to be unromantic than a fool in love. Which reminds me, I understand you offered a vast array of advice for my recovery.”