The Care and Feeding of Your Captive Earl (What Happens In Scotland Book 3) (19 page)

“No,” Gwen interrupted quickly, surprising herself. She didn’t want the shame of an annulment. Indeed, she didn’t yet know
what
she wanted. “I just need a few days to reflect and reset my course.”

“Of course,” Evelyn said sympathetically. “You may stay here as long as you wish. Pippa will not mind. I will ask Mrs. Meek to make up the blue room.”

She forced a smile. “Thank you. In a few days, I will be well. I am sure of it.”

They spent the next few hours talking, tucked away in Evelyn’s room, nibbling on scones and drinking coffee. It was a much-needed respite from the near constant thoughts of Matthias. But even so, thoughts of him trickled in. What was he doing now? Had he read her letter? Most likely not. He had a tendency to stay up quite late and he would not be awake for hours yet.

“So, you still intend to marry Stephen,” Gwen said carefully.

“Of course,” Evelyn replied firmly, though Gwen thought she detected a sliver of uncertainty in her eyes. “My brother has found a way to dissolve my marriage to Alec. As soon as Stephen has recovered, we will begin preparations for the ceremony.”

Gwen nodded, but said nothing. She had already made her feelings quite plain on the subject of Evelyn marrying Stephen. He was the only son of the Earl of Durham—though his mother was the earl’s
second
wife. Unfortunately for Stephen, the earl’s
first
wife was still living.

But once Evelyn set her sights on something, she was not easily dissuaded. Gwen had learned to state her view, then let it go. In the end, Evelyn would do as she wished—and what she wished, apparently, was to marry Stephen—as ill advised as that might have been.

After talking for some time, Gwen yawned. It was nearly ten o’clock in the morning now and she was exhausted. She had slept very little last night, and her body was beginning to protest.

Evelyn stood and held her hands out. “Come, you can rest, and when you wake we can have luncheon and chat some more. There is still a mountain of things we must discuss.”

Gwen stood and followed Evelyn out of the room and into an elegant bedroom dressed completely in varying shades of blue. It was only steps away from Evelyn’s own room.

“It’s perfect.”

“I will ask Benson to send for your things.”

“Yes, thank you. Though...” Gwen paused, unsure how to state her request. “Perhaps he could send someone this evening, after Matthias has been made aware of my absence.”

The last thing she wanted was Matthias discovering her absence before he’d read her letter. Finding out from a footman—with no real explanation—would not be fair to him. And she had no wish to upset him any more than was necessary.

“Of course.” Evelyn took both of Gwen’s hands in her own. “I am glad you came to me. I shall always be your friend and ally, even in your darkest moments. Just as you have been mine.”

Gwen smiled, comforted by her words. It was a relief to know she was not alone, whatever should come.

“I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

Evelyn moved to pick up Lady, but Gwen stopped her. “She can stay. I could use the company.”

When Evelyn was gone, Gwen lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, all she could see in her mind’s eye was Matthias—his strong jaw and powerful frame. His brilliant blue eyes.

The sound of raised voices jolted Gwen awake. Sitting upright, she blinked, attempting to find her bearings. Glancing around the room, she saw that all was still and quiet. Everything was in place. Lady was curled up by the bed.

Perhaps she’d imagined the voice.

And then she heard them again, closer this time. It was a man, accompanied by the sound of doors opening and closing. Was that…
Matthias
?

A brief moment of clarity struck her and she sprang to the door, bolting it. Seconds later, the door handle shook as someone attempted entry. Finding it locked, the man roared through the door, pounding on the solid wood.

“Gwendolyn.”

At such a close distance, the voice was unmistakable.
Matthias.

“I know you are in there. Open this door.
Now
.”

Lady stood up and whined, but did not bark, thank heavens.

Stepping away from the door, Gwen held her breath—praying he would not force it open. He was strong enough, and God only knew what he would do if he found her on the other side. But truthfully, it wasn’t what he would
do
that she feared. It was the look of hurt and betrayal on his face. It would split her open like nothing else could.

“Gwendolyn,” he called out again, like a man tormented.

Another voice joined the din, and for a moment, Matthias’s fists halted. It was Lucas, no doubt. Come to see what the disturbance was. There was a brief, heated exchange before both men’s voices faded down the hall, toward the main staircase.

“Sweet heaven,” she breathed, her heart still hammering in her chest.

Seconds later, there was a frantic tapping on her door. “Gwen. It’s me,” a voice whispered. It was Evelyn. Gwen stepped forward, hesitating only a second before unbolting and opening it.

Evelyn rushed in, quickly shutting and bolting the door behind her. “Matthias is here.”

“Yes, thank you. I gathered that from the fierce pounding on my door,” she said sarcastically. “How did he know I was here?”

In her letter to Matthias, she had not mentioned where she had planned to go, or where he could find her. She thought it best to leave that information out, lest he come and drag her home. As he had just tried to do.

“I am your truest friend.” Evelyn lifted her arms dramatically. “Where else would you have gone?”

“There are many places I could have gone.”

Evelyn lifted a skeptical brow.

Gwen pursed her lips, thinking. She would not have gone back to her father’s house, and most of her friends were merely acquaintances. She had no alliances, save Evelyn and Lucas.

“Very well,” Gwen said, conceding. “Perhaps you are right. What did he say? Was he well?”

“He wishes to speak with you.”

Gwen shook her head. “No, I can’t. Not yet.”

Evelyn sat next to Gwen on the bed, smoothing the skirt of her yellow morning dress over her legs. “Lucas is speaking with him now. He will help him to see reason.”

“I fear that is not likely. Reason is not something Matthias is well aquatinted with.”

“Are you sure you would not like to speak with him? Perhaps you owe him that much.”

“No.” Gwen shook her head. “I cannot see him. Not now.”

“Of course not.” Evelyn smiled. “Stay here and get some rest. I will come fetch you once he has left.”

“Then I shall make myself comfortable. He is not likely to leave anytime soon. Matthias is nothing if not obstinate.”

* * *

Matthias paced the length of Lucas’s study, clenching and unclenching his fists. Anger and frustration coursed through him and he struggled to contain it. Gwen was close. He felt it. The second he’d read that damned letter, he knew she was here—where else would she run, but to her best friend?

“I must see her.”

Lucas poured two glasses of brandy and handed one to him. “I would like to oblige, but we both know I cannot let you see her. She has made her feelings on the subject quite clear.”

Matthias halted and turned to face Lucas. “She is confused. She doesn’t know what she wants.”

Lucas shook his head. “According to my sister, she is quite certain she does not wish to speak with you.”

Matthias drained his brandy in one swallow, clapping his empty glass on Lucas’s desk. “She is my
wife,
Lucas. I have a right to speak with her.”

“Sorry, ol’ chap. I’m outnumbered now. Both my sister and my wife would have me by the bollocks if I allowed you back upstairs.”

What was this? Matthias wiped his hand down his face and tilted his head back. “My best friend has been possesed by a simpering nursemaid. Where is the brutal businessman who rebuilt his family’s fortune from nothing? The man who never took
no
for an answer.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Careful, ol’ chap. I may be tamed, but I am not above mangling that handsome face of yours.”

Matthias lowered his head. “She cannot hide from me forever.”

“A lady can do anything she pleases.” Lucas took a drink from his glass. “That is one thing you will discover about marriage.”

“I am discovering a great many things about marriage that vex me.” Namely that his wife fled at the first sign of conflict.

Lucas swirled the amber-colored liquid in his glass. “Scottish law does not prohibit annulment,” he said definitively. “I have a man who can assist with the details, if you wish.”

Matthias turned to his friend, every muscle in his body drawn tight. Painfully tight. “Do you suggest I abandon our marriage?”

Lucas lifted his hands in surrender. “It is clear the lady wants nothing to do with you. I am merely suggesting a remedy to your predicament. I daresay I’d be doing
her
the favor.”

“You would do better to employ your schemes more favorably. Assist me in winning her back.”

A smile lifted the corners of Lucas’s mouth—a rare enough event that it struck Matthias as strange. “Well, well,” he said slowly. “One of London’s most celebrated rakes has fallen.”

Fallen.

His initial instinct was to deny such an accusation—but perhaps Lucas was right. Perhaps he’d inadvertently fallen
in love,
and with
Gwendolyn
—the most vexing woman this side of the Thames.

He lowered himself into one of the blue striped armchairs situated in front of Lucas’s desk. “Dear God.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I have allowed this to happen. I have permitted myself to become infatuated. And with my own
wife,
no less.”

The very idea was incomprehensible.

“You have allowed nothing,” Lucas said. “The notion that you are in control when it comes to love is an illusion, my friend.”

Matthias glared at Lucas. “Married all of a fortnight and already an authority on love, eh?”

“I am an authority on many subjects,” he joked. “But
least
of all on love.”

With a heavy sigh, Matthias leaned back. “Tell me what to do.”

“Go home,” he said, as though it were that simple. “Give her time. She will come to her senses. Eventually.”

“Do you truly believe that?” Matthias asked skeptically.

There was a soft scrape at the door and without pause, Lucas opened it to admit a small black dog, who bounded in with expectant energy. Lucas scooped up the flat-faced creature up and tucked it beneath his arm as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t believe it in the least, but it seems like sensible advice.” Still holding the pug, Lucas refilled Matthias’s snifter and handed it to him. Matthias downed the contents in one swallow. “Women are maddening and unpredictable creatures. Any attempt to puzzle out their machinations would be a fool’s errand.”

Matthias nodded slowly. “I am beginning to see what you mean.”

“So what brought all of this about?”

“Katherine says she is with child.
My
child. And she was good enough to inform Gwendolyn—
after
I had vowed that I was well and truly done with the damned harpy.”

“Fuck,”
Lucas eased out slowly. “Well, that certainly explains a great deal. Namely why she keeps calling you ‘that damned bastard.’”

That statement gutted him. If he thought she was close to forgiving him, that hope was now dashed.

“Is that what she called me?”

“Often,” Lucas said. “Or so my sister has informed me. I have not seen her myself. I would just as soon stay out of it.”

Matthias released a breath. “I am much obliged to you for taking her in. You are a good friend.”

Lucas slapped him on the shoulder. “I owe you a great deal for chasing after Evelyn when I could not. You are a good man.”

“Perhaps you should inform Gwen of that.”

Gwen belonged at home with him—tangled in the sheets of
his
bed. Waking next to
him
each morning.

In the past fortnight, he’d grown accustomed to her presence—to her lilting laugh and her passionate outbursts. To her warm and generous smile.

“Go to the club and have a few drinks. I daresay it will improve your mood.”

Matthias stood and shook his head. His focus sharpened. “No, I will need all my faculties for my meeting with Mr. Lively.”

His friend looked worried. “And who, dare I ask, is Mr. Lively?”

Matthias smiled. “The man who is going to put all of this to rights.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Outside, the weather was agreeable and the streets had come alive with activity. Upon leaving Lucas’s residence, Matthias had sent the carriage home. Walking would do him good, help clear his head.

Still, his thoughts were entirely focused on his wife. He’d hurt her. His reckless behavior of the past years had come to haunt them both and she deserved none of it. She was the purest creature he’d ever encountered—daring and loyal.

He would fix this.

It was a queer feeling, this unquenchable need to see Gwen’s face, to hear her voice, to kiss those full, dewy lips. Just once, and he would be satisfied.

No, he knew he would never be satisfied when it came to Gwendolyn. He would always crave her. He would always be enslaved to her. There was no sense in denying it—not even to himself.

When he arrived home, he found Mr. Lively waiting in the parlor, an untouched cup of tea placed in front of him. He looked up just as Matthias walked through the door.

He was a formidable looking chap with cold brown eyes and square shoulders that spoke of many nights on the streets. He stood as Matthias moved into the room.

“Mr. Lively,” he acknowledged. “Join me in my study.”

Lively followed Matthias into the study and sat as Matthias poured two snifters of brandy. He handed one to Lively and settled into his chair.

“What have you discovered?”

Lively pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it onto Matthias’s desk with a
thwack.
“Witness accounts. She was seen with a half dozen different gentlemen in the weeks you were on the Continent. If she is with child, it appears any number of men could be responsible.”