Page 52 of Wed By Proxy

Guy allowed his thoughts to wander as the second course came out of stuffed capons, accompanied by a dish of cooked onion salad and braised fennel. He wondered if Mathilde would be at her bath now. She had spoken of her intention to take one as he had left her. It was a distracting thought.

“How wonderful it is to be back,” Julia exclaimed, clapping her hands and jolting him from his ruminations. It was all he could do not to glare at her interruption to his thoughts.

“We are most fortunate, my lady, to accommodate your visit,” said Firmin politely when Guy did not speak.

Julia frowned slightly, and for a moment Guy thought she would ignore his steward’s words. Then suddenly she turned a radiant smile on Firmin. “You are very kind,” she said. “I remember you from a previous visit. Firmin is it not?”

For the rest of the course, to Guy’s relief, she turned the full force of her charm on Firmin, though from time to time he felt her gaze trained on him. The next course was a large venison pie decorated with an edible depiction of the Kerslake heraldic beast, the dolphin haurient. “Good grief,” Guy uttered.

Julia looked gratified. “Your kitchens have outdone themselves, Guy.”

“Don’t look to me. Firmin must have put the order in.”

Firmin blushed. “I merely thought, for a sense of occasion,” he gave a small cough. “For the next course we will be having a parti-colored jelly representing the Kerslake colors of blue and white.

“Quite the home-coming,” drawled Tristan. “I’ve never seen the old coat of arms represented in jelly.”

“I haven’t seen you wear Father’s signet ring in an age, Tristan,” Julia commented with some disapproval.

“Father and Miles both had such fat fingers,” Tristan complained. “Damn thing keeps falling off.”

“The dolphin is very well represented in pastry,” Julia praised, though to Guy’s eye it was plain the cook had never seen one.

“Looks more like a pike,” he commented.

“Really, Guy!” Julia tutted. “I’m sure we are fully sensible of the honor done to us.”

“Well, to my mind the compliment is all mine,” Tristan pointed out. “After all, you’re an Allworthy now.”

Julia’s expression turned grave. “I assure you, brother, I will always be a Kerslake.”

Guy muffled a yawn as the aforementioned jelly was served, along with fruit stewed in rose water. He couldn’t go back to the lodge this evening… could he? He shot a look out the window. Night had fallen, but he could easily find his way back there in the dark. He felt his heart race, even as he dismissed the idea. No, he had given her his assurance that he would not repeatedly seek her out under the cover of dark, expecting to share her bed. It was important to him that he treat her always with respect. That was the only way he would win her trust and her real name, he was sure of it.

“Don’t look now,” Tristan murmured under the cover of his sister’s animated conversation with Firmin. “But my sister is trying to make out the considerable change in you. She is sadly puzzled by it.”

“Change?” Guy repeated blankly.

“You no longer seem affected by her allure,” Tristan mused. “And that’s putting it mildly.”

Guy shot him a look. “I’ve no time for such things,” he said abruptly, and to his annoyance found himself coloring hotly at the lie.

“And yet… The fine bay mare,” muttered Tristan musingly.

Guy glared at him and Tristan laughed softly. He’d forgotten what a damn knowing bastard Kerslake could be.

XX

Mathilde woke at first light and slid her hand along the mattress, but there was no warm body in the bed next to her. He didn’t come. She huffed out a disappointed breath and reached under her pillow to don her shift. Now the fire had died down, the room was chilly. She bundled herself in her blankets and drifted back to sleep.

She wasn’t sure how much later it was when she heard something bounce off the window pane. Could it be falling acorns, she wondered sleepily. No, for the trees were all bare. She sat up and rubbed her eyes as she heard another ping against the glass. Throwing back the covers, she padded over to the window. Something rattled hard against the pane this time. Mathilde unfastened the casement and threw it open, peering down into the garden below.

It was Guy!

She felt her face break out into a smile. “What are you doing?” she called down softly.

“No one’s about,” he answered, not much louder. “Come down and let me in. The door’s fastened.”

She hurriedly complied, pausing only to catch up a woolen mantle to drape over herself, and the embroidered slippers for her bare feet. Creeping down the stairs, she wondered at the fact that every single step seemed to creak. How was it that she did not hear Prudie every morning? You would think her tread would be lighter as she was so much smaller. Drawing back the bolt, she dragged the door open, and found herself caught up in a strong pair of arms.