Page 32 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding

T he stifling heat had abated by the time dinner was served.

They sat each side of the little table by the window, where a gentle breeze occasionally drifted in.

Flora had thought she would feel awkward, dining alone with Matt, but any tension between them quickly dissipated as the meal progressed.

Matt insisted on pouring the wine while Flora served him from the selection of dishes and cut up his meat.

When they had finished, he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes, a faint crease in his brow.

She said quickly, ‘Is anything wrong, are you in pain?’

‘Between my blasted leg and this arm, I feel as if I had been in the ring with Gentleman Jackson.’

‘Is that a reference to the art of boxing?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I suppose you mean to say you feel bruised and battered.’

‘It could hardly be otherwise if I had been sparring with the great man himself. ’

‘You have spent too long on your feet,’ declared Flora. ‘You should have been resting in bed today.’

‘Nonsense. I intend to head back to Bellemonte tomorrow.’

She saw the furrow deepen in his brow and put down her glass.

‘Enough pretending, Matt. You must go back to bed. Immediately.’

The fact that he did not refuse outright told her he was in some pain. Although he did make a half-hearted protest.

‘But we have not yet finished our wine.’

‘You can drink it in bed and I will sit with you.’

‘You will not leave?’

She smiled. ‘No. I will not leave. Not yet.’

She went over to the bed and began plumping and turning the pillows and straightening the covers.

‘I will help you undress, too. As long as you do not make any teasing remarks!’

* * *

Ten minutes later Matt was back in his bed, naked save for the bandage on his arm and feeling much more comfortable. He lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes for a moment.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘That is better.’

‘Truly?’

‘All I need now is my wine,’ he murmured.

Through half-closed eyes he watched Flora refill the glasses and carry them across. She moved with such grace and looked beautiful, even when she was pretending to be cross with him, as she was now, narrowing her eyes and frowning at him.

‘You cannot help being provocative, can you, Matt Talacre?’

He looked at her innocently. ‘You insisted I should tell you if I needed anything.’

She handed him a glass and sat down beside the bed. ‘What you need , sir, is a servant! You should pay the landlord to have one of his people wait upon you for the remainder of your stay.’

He laughed. ‘It is my intention to leave in the morning. Magpie is very biddable; I shall be able to manage her with one hand.’

‘But your leg, you have just said it is still paining you.’

‘It is not so very bad. And my route has plenty of posting inns. I can travel in stages.’ He added, seriously, ‘I must go, Flora, before the Viscount discovers me.’

‘Yes,’ she said woodenly. ‘You must go and I must marry him.’

Matt’s heart went out to her. It was useless to suggest she should cry off and weather the storm.

A scandal like that, where Farnleigh had been complicit in covering it up, would ruin the family.

He could offer her his hand, but she would refuse.

They both knew that a notorious wife would ruin him, too.

For the past two years he had built up Bellemonte to be a respectable venue not only for the highest Society but for the wealthy tradesmen of Bristol, whose morals were far stricter than those of the aristocracy.

Its success depended upon him keeping his reputation as a fair and honest man.

If Whilton made it known that Matt had stolen Flora away from him, it would put paid to his ambitious plans for Bellemonte.

And yet I would give all that up if I could be sure she loved me!

Aye, there’s the rub, thought Matt. We have neither of us mentioned love. I am a tradesman and almost a cripple. If Flora was free of scandal as well as the Viscount, would she still look at me?

‘But let us not talk of tomorrow,’ said Flora, breaking into his thoughts. ‘Tell me how you are going on with the improvements at Bellemonte.’

He grabbed at the chance to talk of something else. As the sun moved lower in the sky they talked of his progress with the new stables, his ideas for adding a new wing to the hotel and building a private swimming pool for ladies next to the existing baths.

They finished the wine and broached a second bottle. Dusk fell and still Flora remained in her chair. Matt knew he would have searched for more subjects to discuss, if there had been a lull in the conversation, but there was not. Neither of them was in any hurry to bring the evening to an end.

‘Ow!’ Matt shifted suddenly, his hand going to his weak leg.

‘What is it?’ asked Flora.

‘Cramp in my calf. Nothing serious.’

‘Let me help.’

Matt made a grab for the sheet covering his hips as she uncovered his feet and perched on the side of the bed, pulling his leg on to her lap. He tensed, almost holding his breath as he watched her gently rubbing the calf.

As the stiffness lessened, Matt closed his eyes and sank back against the pillows.

‘There,’ she said. ‘How is that?’

‘Exquisite torture,’ he muttered, trying not to groan. The cramp might be easing, but the rest of his body was reacting to her touch. ‘It’s passed now, you can stop,’ he muttered, trying not to sound desperate.

He was thankful the sheet was bunched up across his thighs, hiding any tell-tale signs of his true feelings. Flora gently placed his leg back on the mattress and slipped gently off the bed, but she did not move away.

‘Is anything wrong. Flora?’

‘Those scars,’ she murmured, her eyes fixed on his naked chest. ‘How did you get them?’

‘Old battle wounds from my time in the Peninsula.’ He glanced down. ‘That one, on my ribs, for example, was caused by a French Chasseur’s sabre at Sahagún.’

‘Did it hurt?’

She touched the thin line and set his heart pumping hard against his ribs.

‘Not so much at the time. Hardly a scratch really. I didn’t notice I had taken a hit, until after. There’s another one, on my shoulder. That was a slash from another sabre. This time at Salamanca. I was fortunate there; another inch and the slash might have taken off my sword arm.’

‘And this one?’

‘Sniper.’ It was as much as he could do not to flinch as her finger grazed his breast. ‘At Almeida.’

‘It is so close to the heart.’ She was looking at him, those hazel eyes dark with concern. ‘How did you survive?’

‘It was deflected and had lost most of its power, so it didn’t go very deep.’ He dragged in a breath as she rested her hand over the scar. ‘The surgeon dug it out easily enough.’

She shuddered, then slowly lowered her head and planted a kiss on the small round welt.

He clenched his fist, hard. ‘Flora, don’t!’

She looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears.

‘Any one of these could have been fatal and I would never have known you.’

Flora lifted her skirts so she could sit on the bed beside him.

She leaned down and gently kissed the scar on his shoulder.

As her lips touched the rough skin he let out a shuddering sigh.

Emboldened by his reaction, she slid her hand across his chest, feeling the dark hairs crisp between her fingers.

Her body was tingling, she felt so alive, every sense heightened.

She stretched herself alongside him on the bed, aware that there was only the thin cotton of her riding habit between them. He groaned as she trailed kisses over the stubble of his jaw.

‘Flora, please, don’t do this.’

‘Let me stay with you tonight,’ she whispered, her lips grazing his cheek. ‘Don’t send me away yet.’

She raised herself up and gazed down at his dear face. He was frowning and suddenly she felt a jolt of uncertainty.

‘Don’t you want me?’

‘Want you—?’

One moment those dark eyes were burning into her and the next he had hooked his hand behind her head and pulled her close, answering her with a kiss so fierce, so strong that her bones melted.

She collapsed against him and his good arm came around her, pinning her there while he kissed her, long and deep.

Desire blazed through Flora, burning her up and filling her with a force so powerful, it left her dazed and weak .

She broke away while she was still capable of thought.

‘We should stop now,’ she muttered. ‘Your arm. The wound will start bleeding again.’

‘I’d take that chance, but if you stay any longer, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.’ He closed his eyes, then, ‘Are you sure you want to do this, Flora?’

‘I want you too much to stop now,’ she told him. ‘I am not a child, Matt. I know what is at stake. I shall belong to the Viscount for the rest of my life, but now, tonight… I want to do this!’

The way his eyes blazed sent her heart leaping.

‘Go and lock the door, sweetheart. Then we will have to get you out of those clothes.’

In the fading light Flora quickly removed her riding habit, petticoats and shirt.

It took Matt some time to release her stays but at last she was free and dressed only in her shift.

She carried all the discarded clothes over to a chair in the corner and hastily arranged them, conscious that she would need to wear them again later.

It was only when she turned that she found Matt had slipped out of bed and followed her. She suddenly felt very shy and stepped back until she felt the solid wall at her back. He cupped her cheek.

‘Nervous?’

She shook her head and he kissed her gently .

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to help me remove your chemise, love,’ he murmured.