Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Matthew
Supper with the Ashmores was a lively affair. Bridget and his grandmother were constantly butting heads, yet there was a certain amount of respect there. Having her at the table meant that his grandmother’s focus was less on him, which he appreciated.
Micah had about a thousand questions, but thankfully, they were the kind of questions Matthew did feel comfortable answering. What would he be learning, what was university like, what did he need to know to run an estate, that sort of thing. The kinds of things a young man might be interested in.
To Matthew’s surprise, he rather enjoyed playing mentor.
On his left, Johanna and her cousin Rose had their heads bent together.
From the snippets he overheard, they appeared to mostly be speaking of Dr. Syme—who they seemed to approve of—and Johanna’s mother’s condition.
Dr. Syme was worried that there was more to it than mere lack of food, which had Johanna worried.
Matthew hoped her mother would be well enough to attend the wedding, at least. He would like to meet her, but invading a woman’s bedroom when it was a sickroom as well was hardly polite. Especially as they had not already been introduced.
He quickly flipped his coin.
No, he should not try to introduce himself while she was abed. Very well, then.
He lifted his head to pay attention to the conversation happening between his grandmother and Johanna’s sisters, which was beginning to become rather heated.
“What about Rose?” Bridget asked, gesturing to her cousin, who was still talking quietly with Johanna.
“Of course Rose will come with us,” Grandmama told Bridget. “She will need dresses too.”
“See?” Bridget said, directing her comment across the table and snagging both Johanna and Rose’s attention. “Rose, you have to come with us.”
“I have what I need,” Rose said, frowning. “It is not as though I will be appearing in public.”
“Why not?”
“Because Johanna does not need a companion anymore now that she has Lady Stark to chaperone her.”
“But how else are you going to find a husband?” Bridget asked exasperatedly.
“Who says I want one?” Rose snorted. “I certainly am not going to find one among the ton.”
“Why not?”
A sudden silence fell over the group at Bridget’s question.
Not that many people had been talking before; they’d all become too distracted by Bridget and Rose’s back and forth, but the quiet was somehow more fraught than normal.
Matthew glanced at Micah, who was suddenly very interested in his dinner plate.
Grandmama had averted her gaze, studying one of the paintings on the wall.
Rose glanced at him, then at his grandmother. Though her dusky skin did not show it, he got the feeling she was blushing. Beside her, Johanna put her fingers on the back of Rose’s hand and leaned forward.
“Bridget, if Rose does not want to marry, then she does not have to.”
“I just do not understand why she would not want to.” Bridget pouted, slumping in her seat.
Matthew could explain it to her, but how illegitimate children came to be was not really proper mealtime discussion.
His grandmother would likely have a conniption.
Though with her connection to him, Rose might very well be able to attract a gentleman if she so wished.
A younger son, perhaps. Maybe even a baron or viscount looking for a connection to a duke.
She seemed a perfectly lovely young woman, so as far as he was concerned, she should have what she wanted.
The way she cared for her cousins and her aunt was especially admirable.
“Not everyone wants to be married,” Johanna said firmly. “However, regardless of Rose’s marital ambitions, I do agree that some new dresses for Rose are in order.”
With that, the subject was changed, and Bridget, Johanna, and Grandmama set about leaning on Rose to update her wardrobe. Their combined efforts had her agreeing, with exasperation, not long after.
Supper concluded, followed by a few quiet moments where he and Micah were able to sit in blessed silence before joining the ladies in the drawing room.
Matthew took the opportunity to offer to walk Johanna to her room—after a quick coin flip to reassure himself it was the correct decision.
While her room was not that far from her family’s, they were in a separate hallway, as her room had been placed closest to his grandmother’s, while her family was too large to be all hosted in the same hall.
It was not a trip taken entirely alone, since they were still nearby, and Matthew was relieved to leave the younger siblings and Rose to their rooms while he escorted Johanna further on.
“How is your mother?” he asked, feeling rather awkward. He’d wanted a few moments alone with his bride, yet now that he had them, he was not certain how to progress. His hand brushed over his pocket.
“Ah… well, I think.” Johanna’s face turned away so he could not see her expression for a moment, before she faced forward again. “Rose seems pleased with Dr. Syme. Rest and a slow reintroduction to normal food was his recommendation.”
“I am very glad to hear that. I am sorry she could not join us for dinner tonight.”
“Yes, well.” Johanna’s face tilted away from him again. “Hopefully one day soon.”
There was something in her voice, but he was not certain what it meant.
They came to a halt in front of her door. She was still looking away from him. Matthew quietly slid his coin from his pocket and gave it a quick flip, happily getting the answer he wanted.
“Johanna.”
Her head jerked up, and her wide violet eyes looked up at him, meeting his gaze. There was… fear? Anxiousness? Worry?
Matthew did his best to smile reassuringly, even as his heart was beating a little faster in his chest. While he’d enjoyed playing the part of a charming rake, a cheerful lover who never overstayed his welcome, he’d never had to seduce a virgin before. Kissing debutantes had never been his speed.
But his bride-to-be was both.
“I would like to kiss you.”
Her pink tongue flicked out across her lower lip as her eyes widened even more, which he had not realized was possible.
“You would?” she whispered.
“I would.” He stepped to the side, turning toward her, and her head tilted back to hold his gaze.
The difference in their heights gave him a delightful view of her bosom as she sucked in a breath. He carefully slid one arm around her back, his other hand coming up to cup her chin and hold her in place. Had she ever been kissed before? Was he the first?
Not exactly questions he could ask a lady.
Matthew lowered his lips to hers. They were warm and soft beneath his, slightly parted, and he felt his desire stir at the tentative touch.
In his arms, she felt even more fragile than before, so much smaller than him, yet when her hands came to rest on his arms, it felt as though her palms seared him through the fabric of his coat.
Her lips pressed more firmly against his.
She was kissing him back.
When his grip on her tightened, she gasped, and he slid his tongue between her lips, claiming her mouth with his own as a pulsing need for her awoke in him. He wanted her—badly. More than he thought he would, considering this was a marriage of convenience on both their parts.
But she was a beautiful woman. Thin, but soft against his body as they were pressed together.
Her tongue was hesitant but willing. She tasted like sugar.
And Matthew had not been with a woman in far too long, ever since he realized any woman in his bed might start getting ideas about staying there now that he’d inherited his title.
Johanna was going to be his duchess, though.
He was going to marry her the day after tomorrow.
Would it really be that bad to anticipate their vows…
The feeling of being watched crept along Matthew’s skin, raising the little hairs on the back of his neck and dashing cold water over his growing desire.
Lifting his head, he held Johanna upright as she gasped, shivering against him, and looked over her shoulder at the ghost-like waif standing at the end of the hallway staring at them.
Johanna
Reeling from the duke’s kiss, her body on fire with a thousand new sensations, it took Johanna a moment to realize he was no longer focused on her.
His body stiffened, his arm still holding her up but no longer with the same kind of grip.
She turned and saw Charlotte at the end of the hall, standing silent witness to Johanna’s first kiss, and heat bloomed in her cheeks.
“Charlotte!” Her voice sounded strange to her ears. Shriller than normal, certainly. But different in an ineffable way. The difference between a woman who had never been kissed and a woman who had just experienced a first kiss that had sent her senses flying.
Without saying a word, her youngest sister glided away, back out of sight.
Johanna groaned, turning back to the duke but unable to look him in the eye.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
She’d dreamed of her first kiss—what young woman had not?
—but she’d never expected it to be like that.
With his body so hard and strong against hers, his lips demanding but gentle—and his tongue in her mouth!
She also had not imagined what might come after, nor had she anticipated having it witnessed by her youngest sister.
“Is she always like that?” the duke asked hesitantly. He still had not stepped away, his arms were still around her, and Johanna had to admit she rather liked it. Especially as her body throbbed pleasantly, feeling as though her senses had awakened from slumber.
The sensations coursing through her made it difficult to focus on what he was saying.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Ah… she is a bit…”
“Creepy?”
“Well…”