Matilda hid her ring in the folds of her skirt. Whatever William had given her had always been enough. “I didn’t marry him for his money.”
“Well, you didn’t marry him for his charm,” Harry hissed. “Everyone knows he’s got a temper and a half. Good God, the way he bossed you about made me furious.”
“He’s very pleasant with me,” Matilda insisted.
“Pleasant?” Harry spat. “Damning him with faint praise.”
“How I feel about my husband is no one’s business but mine.”
“Spoken like a true woman in love.” Harry peered at her hard, and then his anger drained away. “A man with his connections could have anyone he wanted. Did you have any choice in marrying him?”
“No.”
Harry turned away before she could continue. “I’ll make him suffer if it’s the last thing I do.”
“You will not harm him,” Matilda shouted. “I won’t let you touch him. I chose to marry him. I wanted to.”
His jaw worked, and then he spun around. “So this is all yours?”
“No. Everything you see belongs to my husband, as always.”
He snatched an empty snuffbox from the mantel and stared hard at her even as he pocketed the trinket. “Even you.”
“Give it back.” Harry had often palmed small items from the house, but he’d once claimed it accidental. Matilda held out her hand for it when he did not put it back of his own accord. “You should leave.”
Harry shook his head, eyeing their surroundings with keen interest. “Not until I’ve been compensated.”
He came close, invading her personal space. He eyed her body boldly. “I’m owed, madam. How would you like to soothe my disappointment?”
He grasped her about the waist and planted a kiss on her lips. It was wet, disgusting, and she fought to get away from him. He released her with an oath when she bit his lip. “Still a prude.”
Matilda raised her fists, prepared, however feebly, to fend him off. She’d never hurt anyone before, but she would defend herself. “I am married.”
“Like that ever stopped any woman from taking a bit of pleasure on the side. Even your precious husband has dipped his wick in one or two maids. Don’t get all hoity-toity with me, Mrs. Ford. I deserve some satisfaction after the fool you made of me.”
She lifted her chin. She had always believed a woman should wait until marriage before being intimate, even if she was marrying the man. Harry had said he understood her wishes and grudgingly agreed to wait. Apparently he placed little faith in a woman’s fidelity after marriage.
There was such a vast difference between William and Harry’s attitude toward women that it defied description. William would never try to take what she hadn’t willingly given him permission for. He was adamant Matilda should keep her virtue intact even if she had not been so sure it was necessary anymore.
Matilda would not allow herself to be used in such a way. She was no man’s plaything. She made her own decisions. She calmly walked to the door and opened it. “Dawson?”
William’s valet appeared immediately, his expression tense as he peered into the room and spotted Harry Lloyd. His stare turned furious. “Yes, Mrs. Ford?”
“If you’d be so kind as to see this gentleman out immediately.” She gestured to Harry with considerable embarrassment. “He has no business being under this roof ever again.”
“It will be my pleasure.” He rolled his shoulders, hands bunching into fists. “Immediately.”
“Dawson, check his pockets first,” M
atilda said. “Mr. Lloyd seems too fond of the captain’s possessions.”
Matilda took a chair in the drawing room as a scuffle broke out between the men. Harry fought off Dawson, eventually throwing the empty snuffbox away.
But finally he was gone.
Matilda sat alone in the quite drawing room and began to shake. She put her fingers to her lips and attempted to scrub away Harry Lloyd’s kiss.
William had lied to her about Harry’s demise.