Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Matthew
Curled up around his wife, in her bed, listening to her breathe, Matthew wondered if this was what love felt like.
He pondered what Gregory and Nathanial had said.
Last night, he had enjoyed taking care of Johanna. He had wanted her happiness and to take away all her pain and discomfort.
Going by their actions, he could see some similarities.
They doted on their wives, the same way Matthew did on Johanna.
They wanted to take care of them, to make them smile, to ease their burdens.
That was how Matthew felt about his wife as well.
But he’d felt that from the moment he saw her on stage at the auction.
He certainly could not have been in love with her then; he’d had no thought but to rescue her.
That had been the right thing to do, though. Not an indicator of love. He would have rescued any young woman he’d seen in such dire straits.
On the other hand, would he have thought to marry any young woman?
He ran his fingers through his wife’s silken hair, gently stroking the strands as he pondered the situation.
Then, he’d flipped his coin, deciding whether to bid on her or not; he had not asked the coin whether or not to bid on her but whether or not he should marry her. Granted, he had been searching for a wife at the time. But had such a thought come into his mind because he already loved her?
Unlikely.
He did not think he felt the same way about her that day as he did right now, for instance.
There had been pity and a desire to protect a young lady in terrible circumstances, but he’d had no urge to cuddle her at that moment.
Not the way he was cuddling her now. If she’d had a megrim, he would have felt badly for her, but he did not think he would have been overwhelmed by the desire to try to make it better for her.
So, no. He did not think it had been love at first sight, nor second sight, since technically, he’d met her at the house party originally. He had not paid her much attention while they were there. His coin had not even indicated he should dance with her at the time.
He wondered what would have happened if he’d asked it about marrying her then.
Perhaps the timing had not been right.
Matthew did not often question how his coin worked, but right now, he could not help but wonder why she could not have been spared the night of the auction. Was wanting her to have been spared that also love?
How did one know for certain?
He glanced over at his coin on the side table, but Johanna’s head was pillowed on his arm. He would not be able to reach for it without disturbing her. The itch to do so remained, but he forced himself to stay still. Letting her sleep was more important than his coin.
Last night had been difficult for her. Rose had mentioned she occasionally had megrims. Hopefully, they did not happen too often. Matthew did not like to see her laid so low.
Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder.
He was not trying to wake her; he just… wanted to kiss her.
And that was where he could reach. His cock was hard, as it always was in the morning, but he was not going to touch her like that unless he was completely assured that she was well.
With a soft sigh in her sleep, Johanna snuggled back against him. She felt so small, so frail in his arms. Perhaps Dr. Syme would have a suggestion for her head, something that Rose had not yet thought of.
“Matthew?” Her voice was soft, sleepy.
Blast. He hoped he had not woken her with the kiss.
“Shh. You do not need to be up yet.” He kissed her shoulder again, in the same spot as before. An apology for waking her.
Yawning, she shifted so she could turn onto her back, one hand coming up to find his.
The arm that was under her head shifted so he could curl his fingers around hers.
Half-lidded violet eyes met his, and she smiled at him.
The smile gave him a wave of relief. Surely, if she was smiling, that meant she was feeling better.
“Good morning,” he said in a low voice, just in case her head still hurt, leaning forward to kiss the tip of her nose.
“Good morning.” She tilted her head back, and he obligingly gave her a kiss on the lips, a very brief one.
“Are you feeling much improved?” he asked.
Her eyes widened, some emotion twisting her expression, then disappearing almost as quickly as it had come on. There was something different about the way she looked at him, though he could not quite put his finger on it. A kind of wariness?
Perhaps she thought he meant to push her for marital relations, and her head was still not fully recovered.
“I am,” she said after a moment. “I am sorry about last night.”
“Do not be,” he reassured her. “You could not help it. Rose said you sometimes get megrims.”
“I… yes.” She gave herself a little shake, turning into him and pulling his hand with her so that it was wrapped around her shoulders. Matthew’s cock stirred as she pressed herself against him. “I am much improved this morning, though.”
Breathlessly, she pressed her body and her lips against his, and Matthew groaned.
His wife’s head was so much improved that they spent the morning with her learning how to ride him.
Which meant Matthew got to enjoy seeing her bounce up and down on his cock, her pale hair falling around her body, breasts jiggling, as she moaned and worked herself to frenzied pleasure.
With his hands gripping her hips, he thrust up into her as she ground down atop him, crying out with pleasure together.
Married life certainly was most enjoyable.
Johanna
Guilt surged inside Johanna after her husband returned to his own bedroom. She was still throbbing from the pleasure he’d brought her to—the pleasure she did not deserve. She was not lying to him exactly, but it was a lie of omission at the very least.
Thankfully, being married meant Rose would not come barging into her room this morning, demanding explanations. Johanna needed to think of something to tell her. She wondered if her cousin would believe that she’d truly had a megrim. One could always hope.
Perhaps she could convince Rose that she was afraid of facing the ton, and that’s what had caused her absence from supper. There was some truth to that, although it was not nearly as stressful as trying to figure out how to feed the family had been.
Staring up at the ceiling, Johanna took a deep breath, acutely aware of her breasts and the sweet ache between her thighs. First things first. She needed to speak with her mother today. Alone.
She had not bothered to question her mother before. There had been no point since she had not believed for a moment that her mother was in her right mind when speaking of such a wild notion as being involved in the murder of eight dukes. Now, she needed to know everything her mother knew.
Perhaps there would be something there to absolve her mother of all blame. She could only hope.
She wished she had questioned her mother before…
but it was no use. She’d made what seemed like the practical decision of not indulging her mother’s absurdity, and now she was paying the piper.
At the very least, she could be there to support her mother and hopefully guide her husband into acknowledging that there was no way her mother could have known what her potions would be used for.
Giving herself a shake, Johanna forced herself to get up and ring for Nettie. Forcing herself out of bed was nothing new. She was used to that feeling. It was very odd to ring for her maid afterward to help ready herself for the day. That was new.
If only she could return to that blissful moment this morning when she’d awoken in Matthew’s arms, having forgotten about the events of the prior day for a few glorious seconds… but reality must be faced. That was a lesson she’d learned years ago.
She’d done what she could to please her husband this morning, which had assuaged very little of her guilt, and now she had to take the next step.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Nettie said cheerfully as she entered the room.
It was soothing to have her bustling around, getting Johanna ready for the day, the patter of her conversation distracting Johanna from her own troubles.
Bridget and Charlotte had both gotten up early this morning, and Charlotte had startled a footman in the library, causing him to run through the house, crying out about a ghost in the library.
According to Nettie, Bridget had found the entire incident hilarious, while Charlotte had done nothing but smile serenely and continue to glide about. Lady Stark had given the staff a rather stern talking-to about putting too much belief in the supernatural.
It was an eventful morning already, and it had barely started.
“It would help if she wore some colors, but…” Nettie shrugged, her fingers flying as she worked her magic on Johanna’s hair.
Rose had missed the whole thing because she’d been in Johanna’s mother’s room, visiting her before breaking her fast. Thus, Nettie had not seen her reaction to the morning’s excitement, if she even knew yet.
Micah was still abed.
Nettie had seen Matthew’s valet going into his room just ahead of Johanna ringing for her. She reported that with a wink to Johanna in the mirror, causing Johanna to blush furiously.
Once Nettie was done with her, Johanna dismissed the maid with her thanks and headed to her mother’s room.
She did not know whether or not to hope Rose was still there visiting.
If Rose was, obviously, Johanna would not be able to question her mother, and a large part of her did not want to…
but at the same time, another part of her wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Pressing her lips together outside her mother’s room, Johanna took a deep breath through her nose before opening her mouth to exhale. It did help some.
Easing the door open, she peeked inside.
No Rose.
Again, she did not know if she was relieved or disappointed.
Slipping into the room, she closed the door behind her and quickly took the chair beside the door, propping it against the frame. If someone attempted to enter the room, the chair would not stop them but would slow them, and the noise would alert Johanna to their presence.
Her mother was still in bed, on her side, facing away from the door.
“Mother,” Johanna said softly, approaching quietly in case her mother had fallen back asleep.
But her mother rolled over. Her mouth tightened when she saw who it was.
“Mother, I am sorry I did not believe you,” Johanna said, her stomach turning over. She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for her mother’s hand. “You were correct. The dukes were murdered.”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes.
“I knew it.” There was a hint of a wail in her voice, but she kept it quiet. Her fingers closed around Johanna’s, squeezing them tight. “I knew it.”
“You did not mean to, though. You did not know.” Johanna could hear her own desperation in her words. Knew that her mother could as well.
“That may not be enough to save me.”
“I know. But I do not believe my husband would…” Johanna’s voice trailed off. She did not believe Matthew would wish harm upon her mother. And she would do what she could to ensure he came to the conclusion she wanted him to. But there were no guarantees in life, and she knew that more than anyone.
“But he might. Even if he does not, there are seven other dukes with a say in the matter.” Her mother closed her eyes and swallowed.
“Perhaps only six,” Johanna said quietly.
She had not met the new Duke of Northumberland, unlike the others.
But the son of the duke who died at the hunting lodge had been lost at sea.
Whether or not his heir might be as invested as he would have been…
“But that is enough.” She was grasping at faint hope, and she knew it.
“One will be enough to send me to the hangman’s noose.” Her mother shook her head. A tear slid from beneath her lashes. “Though I worry more about how it would affect you and the others. You should have let me die, Johanna. I was ready.”
“No.” Johanna squeezed her mother’s hand. “Not when there was another way. And there may be another way now, too. Tell me everything you know.”
“I already have.”
“Then tell me again.” Johanna took a deep breath. “I am listening now. I promise.”