Page 31 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding

M att leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

The day was well advanced but the sun was still high, turning his room into a furnace.

He had thrown back the covers and was naked, apart from the bandage on his arm, but there was little air coming in through the open window to cool his skin.

The groom had returned from Whilton some time ago with Matt’s portmanteau, but although he had pulled out the book he had been reading it was still on the table, unopened. Matt had other things to occupy his mind.

What he had discovered from Jepps about the Viscount was interesting and he wished he could have learned more details, but by the time the sawbones had finished with him, the afternoon stage had come and gone, taking the ex-soldier with it.

Since then, Matt had divided his time between lying on the bed and pottering around the room, testing his leg a little more each time, and finally concluding that the doctor was right; it was bruised, but he had done no lasting damage.

His arm was also healing well. He had removed the sling and was very hopeful that by the morning he would be able to ride.

He was dozing when there was a soft knock and the door opened.

‘I hope I am not disturbing you?’

‘Flora!’ His eyes flew open and he quickly flicked the sheet over his body.

‘I came to see how you go on,’ she said, coming in and closing the door quietly behind her.

‘You should not be here.’

She was removing her hat and pointed to the lace draped over it. ‘I wore a veil, no one here knows who I am. You are looking better today.’

‘Thank you, I feel much better.’

‘And you have seen a doctor?’

‘Yes. He was fetched out last night and returned earlier today. I was fortunate, it was only a flesh wound. He rebandaged it again and thinks there is little risk of infection. As for the bruise on my head, that will heal by itself in a few days.’

‘And your leg?’

‘It will be painful for a while but nothing more serious.’

‘I am glad,’ said Flora, gazing at his naked torso and thinking that the real flesh was so much more impressive than a stone statue .

‘You are staring.’

She blushed. ‘I beg your pardon. I have never seen—that is…’

‘My nightshirt is over the back of that chair. If you will bring it over, I will put it on.’

‘No, no, you will be cooler without it.’ She felt overdressed in her cotton riding habit.

Observing Matt’s grin, she blushed even more. ‘It is very hot. Shall I go and order refreshments for us?’

‘There is a bell pull by the fireplace.’

She felt Matt’s eyes on her as she moved across the room to ring for a servant. They were silent until he had given his orders to the man who hurried in, then he invited Flora to come and talk to him.

‘I have been alone here since Jepps left this afternoon,’ he said.

‘You have sent him to Bellemonte?’

‘Aye. He caught the stage to Banbury earlier today.’

She pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down. ‘I hope he is safe, then. Lord Whilton is searching locally for him. And for you. He knows now that you are alive.’

‘Does he know your part in my rescue?’

‘No. Although he suspects you might try to contact me. He is sending over one of his footmen tomorrow, my personal escort until the wedding. That is why I had to come now, before my every action is watched— ’

She broke off as a servant entered with a tray. Matt ordered him to leave it on the side table and when they were alone again he went on.

‘So, no one knows where you are?’

‘No.’

‘Is your maid not waiting downstairs?’

She shook her head. ‘I took to my bed after the Viscount left, pleading a headache and saying I did not want to be disturbed. Then I slipped out and rode over here.’

‘But surely the grooms will know where you have gone!’

‘I had a quiet word with John Coachman and he arranged for everyone to be busy elsewhere for a half-hour. I would not have any of them reprimanded for allowing me to go out alone.’

‘Are you telling me you saddled your own horse?’

She opened her eyes wide at him. ‘Of course, and I used the mounting block in the stable yard. I am not completely without accomplishments, Mr Talacre.’

‘I am beginning to realise that! You should not be here.’

‘I had to see you. Our parting last night was too sudden.’

‘Yes. We need to talk.’

He held out his hand to her, but she ignored it and stared at her own hands, firmly clasped in her lap.

‘That is not why I came,’ she said quietly. ‘My situation has not changed, but I wanted to see you, to say goodbye properly.’

She looked up to find his eyes fixed on her. What she read in them made her heart race and she quickly got up from her chair.

‘Let me pour something for us to drink. Let me see…what will you have, sir?’

By the time she had poured beer for Matt and a glass of lemonade for herself she had regained her equilibrium.

‘I hope Jepps will settle at Bellemonte,’ she said, sitting down again. ‘It was kind of you to protect him and find him work.’

‘Would you have him charged, possibly hanged, for the Viscount’s crime?’ he asked, watching her face. ‘No, I thought not. Actually, I believe he will do very well. He is no simpleton, but the Viscount bullied and browbeat him, deriding him as a cripple. I know how that feels.’

‘Because of your own leg wound?’

‘Yes. I was left for dead at Waterloo and Lord Dallamire—Major Mortlake as he was then—came looking for me. When the war was over, Conham took me on as his aide-de-camp and we became more friends than master and servant. He believed in me, you see,’ he said, simply.

‘Without him, if I had survived at all, I could have ended up a beggar, like Jepps.’

Looking at Matt’s charming smile and his eyes shining with energy, Flora doubted that, very much.

He was too spirited, too full of life to let circumstances grind him down.

He would have survived, just as he would survive this.

And she would, too. She would marry the Viscount and Matt would return to Bellemonte and one day meet the woman who would be fortunate enough to become his wife.

To wake up and see his ruggedly handsome face on the pillow every morning. To have his naked body next to hers…

Stop it, Flora!

She shifted in her seat, batting away thoughts that made her want to blush. ‘And how did you become a co-owner of Bellemonte?’

He grinned. ‘Conham inherited the gardens, along with the hotel and the pleasure baths. It was all very run down and he was minded to sell it, to settle some of his debts, but Rosina—who is now his Countess—persuaded him to keep it on.

‘I had sold my captaincy and I invested the money in the gardens, as well as every penny I have saved since then. Conham, Rosina and I now own Bellemonte between us and it is thriving, although there is still much to do.’

She could not help but smile at his enthusiasm. ‘You appear to have achieved a great deal already.’

‘Yes, and I cannot wait to get back to work there. Another day or two resting…’ He looked up suddenly. ‘Have you dined? No, you left Birchwood House far to o early. Very well, ring the bell again, we will have dinner sent up to us!’

Flora intended to refuse, now she had assured herself Matt was going on well and she should take her leave. But somehow the temptation to stay with him a little longer was too great. Although there was one problem…

She cleared her throat. ‘You will need to dress, if we are to dine at the table.’

‘Ah.’ His eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘I was not prepared for company,’ he said.

He sat up and put the sling over his head, then slipped his bandaged arm back into it. Then he looked across at Flora.

‘Perhaps you would care to turn your back while I put something else on.’

Flora obliged, trying not to listen to Matt moving around, gathering together the various items of clothing. She heard a hiss of pain as he jarred his arm trying to dress himself and after a few more minutes listening to his muttered curses, she gave up.

‘You are clearly having difficulty with only one arm. Let me help you!’

She turned and was relieved to see that he was at least wearing his drawers. She picked up a stocking and began to gather it up.

He sat on the edge of the bed as she rolled on one stocking, then the other, before fetching his breeches.

She tried not to blush as he stepped into them, and pulling them up required her to stand even closer.

There were several jagged scars on his body, old wounds, she guessed.

Better to concentrate on the battles he had fought and survived than think of his muscular thighs or…

‘Just deal with the waist buttons,’ Matt said hastily, lifting the front flap of the breeches and holding it in place.

Flora realised he was on edge, which settled her own nerves a little, and she managed to fasten the buttons before moving on to the next problem: hiding that broad chest with its shadow of crisp, dark hair that tapered down his body like a shield.

‘I am sorry, but we are going to have to disturb your arm again,’ she warned him.

‘I could put on my banyan,’ he suggested, nodding towards the colourful silk robe at the bottom of the bed.

‘Oh. Yes. Of course.’

She quickly helped him slip his good arm into the silk sleeve and draped the other side over the sling.

‘I’m afraid I must ask you to tie it for me,’ he said, his voice husky.

Flora stepped closer and reached around him to pick up each end of the silk belt. Her cheek was almost touching his chest and she tried not to think of the muscled contours beneath the silk .

She started when his good arm came down around her waist, pulling her close in to his side.

With a gasp she looked up into his eyes.

They were warm as melted chocolate and oh, so inviting, and the half-hearted protest died away.

She stretched up, her senses reeling as their lips met.

She closed her eyes, putting one hand up to his cheek as she responded eagerly to the demands of his mouth on hers.

He deepened the kiss, drawing up an ache from somewhere deep inside. It was in equal parts frightening and exhilarating. Her very bones were melting beneath the explosion of desire unleashed inside her.

With an immense effort Matt broke off the kiss and raised his head, trying to damp down the fire raging within him. It burned even fiercer when he heard Flora’s soft sigh.

‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, Matt!’

She buried her face in his shoulder and his arm tightened.

‘Forgive me.’ Matt closed his eyes, fighting to keep control. ‘I should not have done that.’

‘I wanted you to kiss me.’ She looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I know I shouldn’t have come, but I had to see you, just once more. It will be the last time. When I am married…’

He said quickly, ‘Let us not think of that.’

‘No.’ With a sigh she took up the ends of the belt and fastened them around the banyan .

‘It’s the first time a lady has ever helped me into my clothes,’ he quipped.

He was trying to lighten the mood and she followed his lead.

‘I am sure it won’t be the last!’

He saw her blush when she realised how this might be misconstrued and she hurried to the door, saying she would go down and order dinner.

Matt sank back on to the side of the bed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. What the devil should he do now? He cursed silently. He knew exactly what he should do. He should send Flora home. Immediately.

‘No,’ he said aloud to the empty room. ‘We shall dine first. Then we will kiss and go our separate ways.’

But heaven only knew if he’d have the strength to send her away.