Page 74 of Wed By Proxy

No doubt the servants whispered she too was a vicious woman and cruel. She remembered indistinctly that the people who sat at the table had been fancy in raiment. No doubt Guy’s friends and neighbors that she would never win over now. The visiting gentle-folk, too, would have no good opinion of her after the show she had put on.

What did it matter? she told herself wearily, as Lettys led her into a well-appointed room with large windows flanked with blue velvet curtains. A servant was busily laying logs in the fireplace. To her surprise, she spied her new tapestry loom had been set up in one corner. Set next to it was the lift-out shelf from her trunk at the lodge which contained all her threads. Mathilde flushed at the idea of people going through her things, but then she remembered Prudie still had the scandalous book and calmed a little.

Spotting a piece of parchment, she recognized it was her design of the lodge and its inhabitants. Her lips twisted bitterly to think of how differently she had felt when she set that scene out. It had been a few days merely.

Walking over to the loom, she picked up the design and let her eyes travel over it a moment. Her first impulse was to tear it up and cast it into the newly lit fire. But, after all, she was badly in need of a distraction if she was to tarry here a while. She eyed the drawing and felt a pang when her gaze fell on one figure in particular. Well, she would omit him from the tapestry altogether, she resolved.

She must get word to Robin. He would help her plan her escape from this accursed place if Guy refused to see reason and release her. But first, she must bide her time awhile until she was sure of the lay of the land. From the impassioned interviews she had with him thus far, Guy had every intention of keeping her here, ironically, now she no longer wanted to stay. Well, she thought, stung, she would soon change his mind about that! She had no intention of playing the role of his marchioness, a role he clearly had always thought her unfit for.

Her chest heaved. Her mother had been right all along, she thought bleakly. She was not equipped to deal with the harsh realities of married life. Men were faithless beasts who could not be trusted.

She seated herself at her loom as Lettys gave some instruction to the servant for refreshment. Mathilde cared not, she had no appetite. With unsteady fingers, she selected the materials she needed from her wooden box, and set about starting her tapestry.

XXXI

Guy eased the door open and nodded to Lettys to make herself scarce. The lass was quick-witted enough to catch his meaning and made her way lightly over to him.

“Wait until I call for you,” he said in a low voice and she nodded and left.

He closed the door behind him and stood on the threshold a minute, contemplating the picture Mathilde made as she sat absorbed at her tapestry loom. She ought to look rather lost, her small figure in the midst of its large frame, but she was clearly mistress of it, for her fingers moved over it lightly and confidently. He cleared his throat, and suddenly she was sat stiff as a board, her back straight and her cheeks suffused with an angry flush.

“My lord—” she started.

“My lady,” he replied, looking up at her, fully aware it was the first time he had addressed her as such.

She was quiet a moment. “What are you about? I believe I told you that I have no desire to hear aught you have to say.”

“And I told you I still have much to say on the matter.”

She gave a determined shake of her head. “’Twould be pointless,” she insisted. “We — we do not suit each other, sir.”

“That’s a damned lie.”

“You do not want me here. You never did.”

Her voice was suddenly so quiet, he had to strain to catch it. “I always wanted you,” he said abruptly. “I just didn’t know it, until recently.”

She didn’t even pause. “You love another,” she said in a wobbly voice.

This accusation stunned him so much, he had to grope a moment for his answer. “What the bloody hells are you talking about now, woman?” he growled.

“Waldon told me about Julia and your first betrothal. I deserve a husband who can give me his whole heart.”

Guy reeled. What? “Waldon was talking utter nonsense!” he roared, then noticed the tear that was tracking down her cheek. Damn it! He was making a mess of this.

“I don’t love anyone but you!” he bellowed. No doubt the whole damned household had heard that, but he was past caring.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, sticking her little button nose in the air. Gods, she was obstinate and pretty and infuriating.

“Did you hear what I just said, Mathilde?” he asked, drawing in a steadying breath. “I have never spoken of love to a woman before in my life.”

“You didn’t just now,” she said rallying. “You flung it in my face like an insult.”

He blinked. Well, she might very well have a point there. “I love you,” he said blankly.

“Well I don’t love you,” she said, but the fact she sobbed it softened the blow.

“I’ll make you,” he said resolutely.