Page 69 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘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 shiningwith 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 too 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.
