Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
C hristopher sat at the breakfast table the following morning, breaking his fast. He was ravenous, devouring the ham and eggs the cook had served, yet his appetite for the woman seated across from him far exceeded any hunger for food.
Lady Matilda. Innocent, sweet, and the very picture of propriety—if one didn’t know better.
But he did. Oh, he knew better.
After their escapades the previous evening in the local village tavern and then the carriage, he now fully understood what Lady Matilda was capable of. She had awakened emotions within him he had long thought himself immune to.
He liked her—more than he ought to, given his steadfast determination to remain a bachelor. Or the fact that he'd proposed to a lady in his youth who was determined to hold him to that arrangement.
"Oh, I do hope this summer storm passes soon," Lady Delphine remarked, her delicate fingers tracing the rim of the teacup. "I planned to walk the grounds today. I need to stretch my legs after that delightful supper I consumed last night."
"Indeed, I shall join you," Charlotte chimed in. "A brisk walk through the gardens would suit me well, too."
Christopher focused on his plate of food, intent on avoiding the conversation, lest he be roped into their plans. The last thing he wanted was to stroll through the gardens, forced into idle chatter with Lady Delphine—a situation he was determined to avoid until he could make her see sense regarding their youthful engagement, a promise he no longer intended to honor.
After last night in the carriage with Matilda, he could not honor the promise without sabotaging the possibility of a happy marriage with another woman.
A woman he cared for more than he'd thought possible.
"I did not see you return last evening, brother." Charlotte’s tone was casual, but her gaze sharp. "Was there an issue with the carriage after we left?"
Her question caught him off guard, and without thinking, he glanced at Matilda, who was staring at him. Her large, blue eyes wide with concern.
"A delay in leaving, I’m afraid. Several revelers waylaid me, and Lady Matilda and I arrived a little later than the rest of you. You were all abed by the time we returned."
"Yes, it was a tiring night, and we did not stay up," Lady Delphine interjected, her eyes narrowing as her gaze flicked to Matilda, unmistakably cool.
Christopher stiffened. Something about the way Delphine glowered at Matilda left him uneasy. Had she seen their return? Other than the footman at the door, the household had been quiet when they arrived. The family, he had assumed, was asleep.
Had he been wrong that they all were abed?
Had Lady Delphine remained up, watching from the shadows? Had she witnessed the kiss he had stolen from Matilda on the staircase? Did she know how much restraint it had taken not to follow Matilda to her room and make her his before he was free to do so?
He set down his cutlery and took a long sip of coffee, hoping to mask his discomfort. Hell, he prayed that wasn’t the case. He needed to resolve things with Lady Delphine before he could even entertain the idea of offering for Matilda.
He frowned. Suppose he offered to her at all. Their shared friendship may not be enough for Lady Matilda to commit to him. After all, she wanted a love match, and while he liked her very much, he was unsure his feelings were deep enough to equal love.
"Would you like to join us for our walk, Lord Charteris?" Lady Delphine asked, her smile soft but expectant. "I’m sure your sister wouldn’t mind."
He smiled politely, dabbing his lips with his napkin before placing it neatly on the table. "I’m afraid I cannot this morning. I have much work to catch up on, including correspondence from Father’s northern estate."
Pushing back his chair, he rose. "Good morning to you all."
With that, he left the room, relieved to have avoided further interaction with Lady Delphine. Not that he disliked her, on the contrary. She was a charming woman, suitable for many as a wife. But she stirred no fire in him, no desire.
Unlike Matilda.
Matilda made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t experienced in years. Scotland had been a lonely exile, devoid of feminine company for much of the time. He’d grown resigned to solitude, assuming no woman could awaken his passion, so he'd become content with the idea of remaining a bachelor. Yet Matilda had proved him wrong with wit, daring, and intoxicating kisses.
Reaching his office, he closed the door and immersed himself in work. Letters from the steward, tenant issues, and estate repairs occupied him for many hours. Lunch passed unnoticed, and it wasn’t until the clock chimed two that he leaned back in his chair and stretched, the first respite of the day.
The door creaked open, and there she was—Lady Matilda. Her face lit with a warm smile, her presence as welcome as a burst of sunlight through storm clouds.
"I noticed you missed lunch." She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. He glanced at the plate of food she carried, and his stomach rumbled. "I thought you might like something to eat."
She walked toward him, the soft rustle of her skirts brushing against the polished floor. He watched the sway of her hips, unable to stop his body’s immediate response to her presence.
He had been hungry, but was now ravenous for something entirely different. "Thank you," he said. "That is most kind. I completely lost track of time."
"I thought as much." She placed the plate on his desk, the aroma of baked potatoes and roasted meat wafting up to him. His stomach growled audibly, making her laugh.
"Oh dear, you are hungry!" she teased. Picking up a fork, she speared a piece of potato and held it to him. "Here, let me feed you, my lord."
Her tone was playful, but her eyes glinted with mischief. He held her gaze, reading the temptation there, and decided to play along. He opened his mouth, allowing her to slip the fork between his lips.
The potato was warm, buttery, and seasoned well. "Delicious." He watched to see her reaction to his words. Matilda leaned against the desk, observing him eat with a far too knowing expression. Then, without warning, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was brief, but enough to make him lose his senses. Her tongue teased his, her lips soft and yielding. She pulled back with a sly smile, biting her bottom lip.
"Yes," she murmured seductively. "You’re right—the potatoes are delicious."
A shiver ran down his spine, and he was utterly speechless for a moment. The control he had been fighting to maintain shattered.
He stood, scooping her up and setting her on the desk. The plate rattled precariously to her side, but he paid it no mind.
Reaching for the hem of her gown, he pushed it up over her hips, baring her to him. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her hard against his arousal.
"You like teasing me, Lady Matilda?" he growled, his voice rough with desire.
She didn’t flinch or shy away. Instead, she met his gaze with boldness, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted.
"Who says I’m teasing?" Her hand slipped between them, and he stilled, his breath catching as her fingers found his manhood.
He gasped, his composure shattering to the winds. Her nimble fingers worked the buttons of his breeches, freeing him with a confidence that both startled and excited him.
"We cannot," he groaned, though his body betrayed him, pressing into her touch.
She removed her hand, but only to urge him closer. The heat of her bare skin against him was maddening, and when she shifted, guiding him between her folds, he nearly lost himself.
"I want you, Christopher." Her body trembled with need and there was only one way she could be satisfied. "I ached all night for you."
Her hips rocked against him, and he swore under his breath. He was so close to taking her and crossing a line from which there would be no return.
He pulled back just enough to look at her. She lay before him, open and glistening with arousal, her body a vision of temptation.
He stepped back and kneeled, his lips brushing against her inner thigh. He could not have her completely, but he could give her pleasure in other ways.
And he would sate the hunger within him.
With her.