Page 54 of A Duchess Untouched

“What was that?” Selina exclaimed.

“It did feel like a hallucination, and I have not had any spirits,” Matthew choked out. “It seemed impossible that the two would even be friendly with each other, but just now they were even…”

“Do not say it aloud.” Selina shuddered, smoothing her skirts again. “It is a terrifying thought that we would see and hear more of… that. They seemed ready to face the ton! And they hugged each other! And that kiss, oh, I was about to burn my own ears.”

Matthew let out a low laugh, running a hand down his face. “My mother. And your father.” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the image. “I believe I shall require a moment to recover from that.”

“You require a moment?” Selina huffed, though a smile was beginning to fight its way through her horror. “I am not sure how I will ever look at them again.”

“Then I will have to help you forget about them for a while.” Matthew reached for her then, drawing her back against him, his earlier urgency restored. “Come here. Let us at least finish what we started.”

“You cannot be serious. I could not possibly, not after that.”

“You could, and you will,” he murmured, already lifting her dress.

She meant to protest further, truly she did, but his mouth found the curve of her throat that made her lose all reason, and every argument she had prepared simply dissolved. He backed her against the wall once more, and this time when he slid inside her and filled her to the hilt, she clung to his shoulders and let him.

“Better?” he murmured as he tilted her hips so she would take him even more deeply.

Selina gasped loudly, arching her back. She was losing all her control once again.

“Much better,” she moaned as he intensified his pace.

Chapter 26

“Matthew? Is that you?” Oliver called.

Maximus barked as if in response to Oliver’s question. Matthew did not even turn to face his brother as he handled the letter.

A sharp, tearing sound echoed in the Wentley family mausoleum.

“Careful, Matthew,” Oliver gently warned, stepping closer to his brother. “Do not tear that paper into shreds. You may want to read its contents for the hundredth time.”

Matthew did not respond, but Maximus had begun circling them, sniffing. He could imagine the place had several interesting scents for a dog. However, Matthew’s focus was on Robert’s marble tomb and the letter that might jeopardize his hopes that his search could end soon.

It was a small, square-folded letter, but its impact could be momentous. That was already clear from its worn appearance, as if it had been handled and read so many times over the weeks that the ink was beginning to smudge and fade. And it was true: he had handled and read it again and again for weeks, searching the words for an error.

“Mary has not replied,” Matthew declared, trying to keep his voice flat. But it still sounded drained, as tired as he felt. “I have sent her four letters, variations of the one I hold. Messengers delivered them directly to Essex House; each was delivered to the head housekeeper. As far as I know, she is the only Mary there. Since we also have her surname, I can say she is the only Mary Wills there, and I have not heard of anyone being sent out of Essex House lately. Still, there has been no response.”

Oliver let out a weary breath, echoing Matthew’s despair, but it turned into a short, tight cough. He dabbed a handkerchief against his lips, then kept it pressed there, as if it could ease his discomfort. A fit of coughing followed as he steadied himself. Matthew wanted to hold his brother, but knew Oliver would rather not accept physical support. Pride ran in the family.

Oliver waited for the coughing and wheezing to subside before moving much closer to his brother. Matthew suspected the moss, dried flowers, and damp earth might be bad for Oliver, but he could not send him away either. That would only make Oliver want to stay longer.

“Perhaps Mary Wills does not want a duke reaching out to her,” Oliver mused. The dark circles around his hollow eyes worried his older brother, even though Oliver had always looked like that ever since childhood.

But after losing Robert, he could not help worrying about one day losing Oliver. “Or perhaps Mary does not want to be in the shadow of our family? What if she wants nothing to do with Robert or with us?”

Matthew thought about his own guilt. Did Mary blame him for Robert’s loss? Was it possible she knew what role he had played in his death? His jaw clenched as he stared down at the dust covering his brother’s tombstone. He wanted not just to clean that section but the whole mausoleum. He should scrub everything clean without a servant’s help, using a small rag until his fingers were raw.

It was not that Matthew was living in misery. In fact, the opposite was true. He had been living in wedded bliss with Selina.

Just this morning, he woke up with her stirring his cock awake with her mouth. They had made love on the bed, on the rug, and in several rooms, but each time felt like the first. Each time, she managed to wrench the most delicious release from him. She was a tease, too, sometimes, slowing down when both of them were almost there, and changing pace to race toward the end. Just the thought of her made him warm all over, even in the cold mausoleum.

Finally, Matthew had found someone who could make him happy, not only by satisfying him physically but in every way. Their conversations. Her eagerness for life. He was enamored with his wife in every way that mattered, and he had allowed himself to fall for her.

The realization, however, also filled him with fear. Every time he let himself be happy, something seemed to loom on the horizon. Even when Selina kissed him and hugged him tightly, his mind would retreat into the darkest corners.

The ghost of Robert still lived on in his memory. Whenever Selina’s sighs and moans stopped and she drifted off to sleep, his brother’s ghost came between them. Even though he had managed to trace Mary, he had still not paid his debt to his brother. The guilt almost felt like an anvil weighing against his chest.