Cabot hurried over, full of congratulations for his happy news, and ushered William to a corner of the shop he’d yet to explore. Folded carefully on the table was an array of delicate garments. Cabot pointed to each pile. “Nightgown. Chemise.”
Stockings. His hands itched to touch the delicate items. He yearned to glimpse them upon Matilda’s legs. To place them upon her limbs himself just before he disciplined her again. He swallowed the urge to reach out and snatch them up. “Two.”
“Of what, Captain?”
“Everything.”
“Of course.” Cabot made a small pile between them of frothy white silk. “Garter ribbons too?”
“Yes,” he whispered. He knew the perfect color. Something bold. Something unexpected, as a reminder of the past that drew them together. “Red.”
Eight
The marriage by special license was expediently arranged, and the rushed event occurred four days after Captain Ford proposed. Thirty minutes and a great deal of embarrassment after that, Matilda Winslow became the legal wife of Captain William Ford and a woman with responsibilities. A wife with a house to manage and vast wealth in her future.
Without ever being courted.
Never even receiving a single flower as proof of any affection.
She was married before the Duke of Rutherford, Captain Ford’s sisters, a close friend of William’s—Mr. Percy Cobb of Vere Street—and surprisingly, Mr. Dawson was asked to attend and give her away.
Congratulations were subdued, but Matilda tried her best to appear merry despite the unexpected nuptials. She had to convince everyone that she was happy for however long they remained a pair.
Captain Ford expected her to keep to their bargain and be in love with him, so she did her best to seem so. A baffling undertaking. She was utterly terrified of disappointing him and of ruining her new gown, a bronze sheath of silk and fine lace that fitted her curves so perfectly she’d not been able to hide her astonishment at how good she looked in it.
Yet for all the good will and gifts that had come her way, Matilda could not remember a time she had ever felt so uncomfortable. She had no one she could confide in that would not think she was strange to be having doubts about the marriage after the fact.
Captain Ford’s three sisters had been giddy with excitement all day, having delivered the dress at dawn and remaining to help her bathe with scented soaps and oil her skin, then assisted her to dress an hour too early in readiness for the ceremony. She had never felt so beautiful or cared for, but the idea of putting a foot wrong horrified her. Even her stockings and red ribbon garters on her legs made her feel elegant and strangely on edge.
“I am glad that is done and out of the way,” William murmured as he delayed by her chair. He slipped his hand over her collarbone, a light caress that almost tickled. Her new husband had been quiet all day, watching her closely for her reactions as he’d placed his ring upon her finger. She fiddled with the gold band as he lingered, teasing her skin with a surprisingly gentle caress from such a grim man. “Now it is not a pretense at all, Mrs. Ford, my dear and beloved wife.”
He’d called her beloved? Matilda stared at him for half a beat. Surely he could not mean it. The last thing she’d ever expected was to marry a man so distinguished and for him to be happy about the circumstances. Becoming William Ford’s wife was utterly beyond her ambitions. They had nothing in common and never would. No one was ever going to believe them in love. Getting used to her new address and elevation would take a great deal of time. Becoming accustomed to his endearments, even pretend ones, might take the rest of her life.
“So it is final.”
A brief smile flickered over his lips. “Are you comfortable there?”
“Yes, Captain.” But it was a lie. Sitting in this room, at the captain’s side, didn’t feel proper. Any moment she expected Mrs. Young to drag her back to the servants’ quarters and give her greasy pans to scrub as penance for her presumption in returning his smiles.
His brow creased as he took a place beside her. “William would be preferred among family and friends.”
“Yes, William.” She almost choked saying his first name and blushed yet again. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d done that since his scandalous proposal.
Footmen came and set out course after course of an elegant dinner to
celebrate their marriage. Each frowned at her a little before shaking their heads in consternation and moving on to the next guest as if they could not believe she was to be waited on. She shuddered to think of what was being said of her downstairs.
Lobster soup and quail eggs, syllabub followed by meringue tarts—it all looked so delicious her mouth watered with each course. So much had been prepared that she was embarrassed to be the cause of such effort in the kitchens. After two hours of eating and smiling, Matilda was exhausted. Mrs. Cowley would have been run off her feet to have done all this at such short notice. Matilda felt she must eat every morsel placed before her so she could thank her for the effort later.
From time to time, William glanced her way and smiled but was soon drawn back to the duke’s rather more important conversation about society goings-on and politics. The food was excellent, far better than she’d ever had in the servants’ hall, so she did not long for any attention.
Matilda was already so far out of her depth her heart fluttered in panic every time William looked her way. She glanced toward the three young women chattering as if such a marriage was commonplace, a wanted event. She knew each girl well in a strange fashion.
Victoria, the eldest sister, liked to breakfast in bed, Audrey, the middle girl, charged out of her room very early and jumped about in the stable block, exercising—she claimed—to maintain her figure. Evelyn was the tardiest riser, but could often be found with a book in her hand instead of eating from the tray she’d requested be brought to her room. She had been waiting on them for three years but had never presumed them friends.
Despite their knowledge of her background, they had accepted her with surprising kindness so far, seemingly unperturbed by the early lie, though she was often overwhelmed at times by their conversation and plans for the future. It seemed her husband’s family did a great many things together through the year. Picnics and holidays and grand balls. She was very glad the girls were not staying in William’s home at present but lodging with the Duke of Rutherford until the matter of her and William’s marriage was settled. It gave her time to grow accustomed to the idea of future travel and going out so much on William’s arm.
“We are so very pleased to have you as part of the family,” Evelyn gushed as William leaned away. “It was the coin over his heart that made my wish come true.”