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.”
“Matilda told you of my letters,” Evelyn said, beaming.
“She mentioned them in passing but was concerned about your state of mind in suggesting such actions. A gold crown over my heart? Where did you think a servant might acquire one of those? By stealing it from me in the first place?”
Evelyn only laughed. “How sad that she is as equally unromantic as you!”
“That suits me too. I am spared any nonsense with her.” He held out his arm. “Come along, Evelyn. Shall we lure Audrey away from what troubles her?”
Audrey was only too happy to abandon her music to accompany them. “This would be more enjoyable if your bride was with us,” Audrey insisted as the carriage rolled along toward Bond Street. “We could fetch her with no trouble.”
“She is resting,” he repeated for Audrey’s benefit. “I will not have her disturbed today.”
Audrey shook her head. “She must be lonely locked up in that house.”
“She is not a prisoner.” William squirmed though. He’d not thought she might become bored. “I am sure she is fine, and Dawson is on hand to see she has everything she might need today.”
Audrey appeared unconvinced. “Still, the other servants could be difficult for her. They have their own way of doing things.”
His conscience nagged him. He’d promised Dawson an interview last night. In the excitement of his upcoming change of status to husband, he’d not had time to see him. He’d thought the man wanted to discuss the running of the servants’ hall and Matilda’s employment. She was free of that now, wasn’t she? “Difficult how?”
“The elevation of a servant can cause resentment
“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.”
“Matilda told you of my letters,” Evelyn said, beaming.
“She mentioned them in passing but was concerned about your state of mind in suggesting such actions. A gold crown over my heart? Where did you think a servant might acquire one of those? By stealing it from me in the first place?”
Evelyn only laughed. “How sad that she is as equally unromantic as you!”
“That suits me too. I am spared any nonsense with her.” He held out his arm. “Come along, Evelyn. Shall we lure Audrey away from what troubles her?”
Audrey was only too happy to abandon her music to accompany them. “This would be more enjoyable if your bride was with us,” Audrey insisted as the carriage rolled along toward Bond Street. “We could fetch her with no trouble.”
“She is resting,” he repeated for Audrey’s benefit. “I will not have her disturbed today.”
Audrey shook her head. “She must be lonely locked up in that house.”
“She is not a prisoner.” William squirmed though. He’d not thought she might become bored. “I am sure she is fine, and Dawson is on hand to see she has everything she might need today.”
Audrey appeared unconvinced. “Still, the other servants could be difficult for her. They have their own way of doing things.”
His conscience nagged him. He’d promised Dawson an interview last night. In the excitement of his upcoming change of status to husband, he’d not had time to see him. He’d thought the man wanted to discuss the running of the servants’ hall and Matilda’s employment. She was free of that now, wasn’t she? “Difficult how?”
“The elevation of a servant can cause resentment
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