“And you have possessed me mind and body.” The lie left her lips with ease. “You have captured my heart — or so others shall believe.”
He lowered his head, brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss so opposed to the way he had claimed her mouth earlier. “Do not be afraid,” he whispered. “I promised my name and my protection, and I shall be true to my word.”
Priscilla forced a smile. In such a dire situation, his offering should have been enough. Was it foolish to hope for more? Was it feasible to expect a mutual affection to develop?
“You must have owed Lord Morford a great debt. When you came here tonight, I doubt you intended to take a wife.” She looked into his eyes, searching for the same hint of admiration she’d noted in Mr Mercer’s gaze. A sign to instil confidence in their future. But he was as unreadable as a book written in Latin.
“No. I never envisaged myself as a husband. I fear I lack the necessary qualities in that regard.” Mr Chandler gave a sigh of resignation. “Under the circumstances, you can have no expectations of love.” He paused. “Let's continue this conversation in my carriage. For all my faults, it is not in my nature to deceive you. A frank discussion is due.”
What did he mean he lacked the qualities of a husband? Perhaps he was speaking of trust, of loyalty. Did he intend to take a mistress? Was it not a little late to tell her that now?
A strange sense of foreboding took hold. “You certainly know how to make a lady nervous.”
“One should never fear honesty. Only lies and deceit make fools of us.” He placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Now, let us leave here. During the journey home, I shall tell you what I seek from our alliance. And you may do the same.”
With all romantic notions quashed, she braced herself for what was to be an enlightening conversation. “If we are to wed, I suppose we should have realistic expectations.”
He appeared pleased with her reply. “As with any game, without knowledge of the rules, one cannot ever hope to win.”
“Indeed.” Priscilla smiled though her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. A lifetime full of love and laughter was the prize for the winners of this game. Yet she suspected his motives for playing differed from hers.
They crept through the shrubbery at the end of the garden, found a door leading into the mews where Mr Chandler’s carriage was waiting.
“This is Billings.” He gestured to the coachman. “The man is not one for conversation but has an innate ability to navigate crowds. Now, I’m told you live on Berkley Street.”
Priscilla nodded. “Yes, at number twenty.” Heavens, bile bubbled in her stomach at the thought of facing her aunt and uncle.
“Take the longer route to Berkley Street, Billings.” Mr Chandler removed his watch and squinted at the face. “I estimate we’ll need thirty minutes to complete our business.” He looked up at her as he placed his watch in the pocket of his waistcoat. A sly smile touched the corners of his mouth. “On second thoughts, make it forty-five.”
“Aye, sir.”
Mr Chandler assisted her into his conveyance, closed the door and dropped into the seat opposite. Despite sharing a salacious kiss in the garden, there was something far more intimate about being alone with him in the confined space.
“Well, Mr Chandler,” she began, desperate to fill the silence, desperate to distract her mind. “You wished to inform me of the list of rules.”
“Rules? I think not. The word suggests an element of control, rigidity. Together, we will forge an alliance that allows us to live freely, to live as we please.” He leant back and rubbed his chin as his gaze swept over her. “You can begin by calling me Matthew. Only my solicitor calls me Mr Chandler, and I find it creates a certain unease.”
Matthew.
Once again, a cloak of familiarity enveloped her.
“Very well. You have permission to use my given name.”
“Forgive me. But I cannot recall what it is.”
“Priscilla.”
He inclined his head but said nothing.
Silence ensued.
“Well, I am sure you didn’t need forty-five minutes to agree to use our given names,” she said.
“Not at all.” He glanced at her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “It is simply that I do not wish to cause offence and so must decide how best to proceed.”
Nothing could make her feel more foolish than she did already.
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