“Your wish?”
Evelyn’s smile was very wide. “To have William fall madly in love before he died.”
His sisters all nodded enthusiastically.
“I see,” Matilda said slowly although she tried not to wince. Receiving William’s love was sure to be a memorable moment for some woman in the future. He wasn’t in love today, and neither was Matilda in love with him. Everyone knew that. But Matilda nursed a private heartbreak. She was distraught over Harry Lloyd’s death. However, she couldn’t let this girl continue her delusions because she might be hurt if she should try to capture a man’s attentions that way. She might become embarrassed when the plan failed to procure the fellow’s love. “I never actually placed those coins on his chest.”
“Oh, I know that.” Evelyn sipped her watered wine slowly. “However, since William mentioned the treatment as being blatantly false a few days ago, you must have found time to discuss it with him. I am glad to have been the impetus for your growing attachment.”
“That wasn’t the moment,” Matilda muttered under her breath. Thankfully none of the Ford sisters heard. Fear had been the cause of this marriage—William’s of Miss Chudleigh’s infatuation, Matilda’s of being destitute.
Evelyn leaned close. “My brother has always been particularly reserved and unromantic, which irks my sisters and I greatly. We once feared he would never marry. He hardly speaks to anyone we like. With him being away at war so long, hardly ever at home, it has been so difficult for him to form close connections beyond men.”
Matilda nodded slowly, seeing his sister’s point easily. William was not exactly the warmest man, and his callers had been few and far between in the past months.
“We did fear he’d never marry,” Evelyn whispered, “until you came along and turned his head.”
Matilda blushed with embarrassment. William’s youngest sister was an utterly baffling creature. She really believed they loved each other and that they had a future, despite knowing the truth of their financial arrangement. Evelyn alluded to that future often, but forever couldn’t be further from William’s plans. Matilda had spent the better part of the past three days weeping over Harry Lloyd’s death. What William had done during that time—she had learned he’d gone out at most nights—was his own business, and she had no right to ask where he’d gone and who he’d met with.
Matilda cast a discreet glance at her new husband. His scar was a stark reminder of the scope of their limited history. William was talking with his grandfather, but there was tenseness about his posture that concerned her. During his illness, when he couldn’t speak of his needs, she’d developed a sense of his moods by the way he’d held himself. He wasn’t happy. Whether that was with his grandfather, their marriage, or something else entirely, she wasn’t sure.
William glanced her way when the last course was cleared away. “Perhaps you and my sisters would like to take tea in the parlor.”
“Oh, of course.” She should not have needed the reminder, but she was grateful for the nudge. She had three books on etiquette on her bedside table, but memorizing all the social rules of proper society in four days was proving a challenging undertaking. “Ladies, shall we adjourn?”
“Actually, we feel we should be going,” the eldest sister said as she stood.
Victoria came around the table, caught up Matilda’s hands, and kissed her cheek. “The newly married do not need a trio of little sisters lurking around and spoiling a perfectly romantic evening, do they? Good night, dear sister.”
Matilda’s breath caught at the remark, caught her off guard by a truth she’d not considered. She had not only a husband, but had received sisters too through this marriage. A week ago she’d been hoping simply to keep her position. It was disconcerting how quickly her life had changed. “Good evening, Miss Ford.”
“Victoria, please,” she insisted. “We are family now.”
The other pair hugged her tightly with a few whispered words of congratulations and promises to visit and then hurried the duke out of the town house. He might have grumbled a little at their haste to depart, but they made a happy group as they left.
Matilda experienced a moment of longing that her father could have witnessed her wedding today. He would not have cared for the terms of her marriage, certainly not their intention to separate later, but she thought he would be happy she was no longer in service.
“I will be on my way too,” Mr. Cobb said. “You definitely do not want a bachelor like me underfoot on this most important of evenings.”
Matilda blushed furiously but still managed to meet his gaze. “I look forward to seeing you again, Mr. Cobb.”
“Thank you for coming.” William clapped his friend on the shoulder and walked him to the door, talking quietly. When William returned, he was smiling. “Wife.”
Matilda dipped a curtsy. “Husband.”
He drew closer, eyes lingering on her bustline. It was lower than she’d worn before, but not indecent enough to account for his interest. Still, she struggled with a blush. This man had the right to look all he wanted.
For that matter so did she.
Captain Ford looked very handsome. He had dispensed with his naval uniform today in favor of a new chocolate-brown coat, cream waistcoat, and fawn trousers, reflecting his usual reserve. But there was an air of prosperity about him that had been absent before—a signet ring he’d not worn before today graced his left hand, a heavy silver chain attached to a pocket watch hung across his waistcoat, and an amber pin that matched the lightest part of his eyes was threaded through his cravat. The color matched her gown perfectly too.
He appeared ever
y inch the aristocrat. A man she’d been in awe of when they first met and to a degree still was.
“Mrs. Ford, do you dance?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “But not since I was a girl. I will probably bruise your feet with my stumbling.”