Page 11 of Yours Always
Chapter 7
The sun was onlyjust beginning to cut through the morning mist as Matthew entered Robert’s study, the scent of coffee, old books and sandalwood permanently hanging in the air. Robert was at his desk, papers were spread before him, dressed in his riding coat. The brass buttons still managed to gleam in the gray light.
“I thought you’d be gone already,” Matthew said, his voice rough from too little sleep. “I was surprised when I received the message that you wanted to see me this morning.” Robert glanced up, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “I am leaving shortly. I need to meet with the solicitor at Somerton to set things in order for Benjamin, but I wanted to have a word with you first.”
Matthew shifted his weight, unease coiling in his gut. He’d always found Robert’s silences more telling than his words, andthe measured calm of his gaze this morning felt heavier than usual. He cleared his throat and held out a folio of ledgers. “The accounts are in good order. I’ve already arranged for the transfer of the estate’s management to Ben’s overseer. The transition should be a smooth one.”
Robert accepted the folio without looking down at it. His quiet gaze remained steady on Matthew. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done these past years, Matthew. You’ve kept Edenfield and the other estates running, kept the books straight, but that’s not what I wanted to speak with you about.” Matthew’s shoulders stiffened. He tried to summon an easy smile and deflect with something light, but the words died on his tongue.
Robert sighed softly, but the sound was more amused than resigned. “I heard about what happened last night,” he said. “With Lord Hampton and the rest.” Matthew’s jaw tightened. “It was nothing. A few thoughtless words. I handled it.”
“I’m sure you did,” Robert said, his voice dry, but the tug on his lips betrayed him. Matthew ran his hand over the back of neck, trying to ignore the prickling feeling creeping up his spine. “I am aware that it was not entirely appropriate for me to step in the way that I did, and I apologize.” Robert stepped closer, resting his hand lightly on Matthew’s shoulder. “I am grateful you were there. I have no doubt that Benjamin would have handled the situation, possibly bruising more than Lord Hampton’s ego. For Sarah’s sake, I am glad it was you.” Matthew swallowed hard, his throat tight. “She doesn’t need me to rescue her.”
“Doesn’t she?” Robert asked quietly. “You stood with her when it mattered, and you’ve done so more than once. People notice these things, Matthew. I notice.” Matthew felt the words settle between them, heavier than any account book or estate ledger. He tried to look away, but Robert’s hand on his shoulder anchored him.
“I’m not asking for explanations,” Robert said. “I only wanted to say thank you for stepping in, and for always being there.” Robert turned back to his desk to finish gathering his papers, as if his words hadn’t just cracked the foundation of everything Matthew believed.
“While I’m away at Somerton, I trust you’ll keep an eye on things. On the house. On Benjamin. On Lizzy.” The familiar nickname, so easily spoken, struck a chord in Matthew’s chest. He nodded once. “Of course.” Robert gave his shoulder another brief squeeze. “Good man,” he said simply. He collected his gloves from the desk, his movements calm and unhurried. “I’ll only be gone a few days. If anything arises—”
“I’ll handle it,” Matthew said surely. Robert nodded, with a knowing smile. “I know you will. You always do.” As the front door closed behind him and the sound of hooves faded into the morning, Matthew stood alone in the quiet while the weight of Robert’s trust settled across his shoulders, like a mantle he hadn’t realized he’d already taken on.
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The warmth of too many bodies pressed in from every side as Sarah clutched Matthew’s arm a little tighter, trying to disappear into the crush of satin skirts and perfumed gentlemen. Another night, another glittering ballroom, and another evening of too much noise, too many scents, and not nearly enough air. They trailed behind Benjamin and Grace, weaving through the crowd, hoping to be mistaken for just another unremarkable cluster of familiar faces. Hoping, perhaps foolishly, to go unnoticed.
“Well, look what we have here,” came an unfamiliar voice, teasing and unmistakably amused. “I do believe I’ve stumbled upon the two most beautiful creatures in all ofLondon.” Sarah turned, schooling her features into something cool and indifferent, and nearly faltered when her gaze locked onto the darkest, stormiest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Not the soft, familiar hue of Benjamin’s or her mother’s, but something sharper. Wilder. Before she could think better of it, her gaze flicked instinctively to Matthew, his green eyes as quiet and deep as the woods before a storm. They were already locked onto hers, their gaze shaded with a depth she had not deciphered but was becoming increasingly aware of. He offered a smile that she knew was meant to steady her, but instead her heart skipped traitorously.Why did it keep doing that? And how on earth was she meant to make it stop?
“Oliver,” Benjamin said with a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Do try not to reuse the same compliment you once gave a mare when addressing my sister and my future wife.”
“Oh, Benny, you wound me,” the man returned with mock offense. “I hadn’t even noticed the ladies. I was, of course, referring to you and Matthew.” Their laughter was easy and familiar. Sarah stood silent, folding her hands neatly before her skirts as Matthew’s arm slipped from hers. She felt its absence as keenly as a cold gust against her skin, until his voice drew her mind back to present company. “What poor young lady has the misfortune of entertaining you this evening, Ollie?”
“Well,” Oliver said, flashing a grin, “if you’d only introduce me to these visionaries, I might be persuaded to decide.” Benjamin, still chuckling, reclaimed Grace’s arm and turned to Sarah. “Ladies, this menace to polite society is Lord Oliver Blackburn. Oliver, this is Lady Grace Rockwell, and my sister, Miss Sarah Elizabeth Weston.”
Oliver took Sarah’s hand with an elegant bow, his smile all charm and wicked mischief. “A pleasure, Miss Weston. I’ve heard so much about you over the years, though neitherMatthew nor Benjamin adequately prepared me for such beauty.” Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but Matthew gently reclaimed her hand and tucked it back into the crook of his arm. “No,” he said, lightly but without hesitation. “She is off-limits, Ollie. You know that.”
“Yes, yes,” Oliver sighed with feigned drama. “I am aware. Just having a bit of fun. But if you insist on guarding her so fiercely, Matty, I suppose I must turn my attentions elsewhere.” It was playful and harmless on the surface, but Sarah felt the quiet shift in Matthew, the silent steel beneath his teasing. The way his hand lingered a moment longer than necessary. Perhaps her mother was right and she wasn’t as clever enough to read men’s intentions. She certainly wasn’t clever when it came to reading her own heart.
Benjamin grinned, shaking his head. “I can’t say I expected to see you back in London so early. You usually avoid the House of Lords until the last possible moment.”
“I’m shocked you’re here at all,” Matthew added. “Last I heard, you were pretending Parliament doesn’t exist.” Oliver placed a hand over his heart, his tone wounded. “That is only partially true. I was summoned.” Matthew raised a brow. “By whom?”
“The Duke, of course,” Oliver said, reaching for a glass from a passing tray without missing a beat.
“Kenswick?”
“Indeed.” Oliver gave a dramatic sigh. “He’s presenting his sister this Season. So naturally, I came along to ensure His Grace has at least a modicum of fun while fulfilling his familial obligations.” Benjamin smirked. “Which sister? Surely not—”
“Adeline,” Oliver confirmed with a grin. “The older one. Tall, composed, painfully proper. Though the younger one, Charlotte, is none too pleased about being left out of the fun. She’s takento storming about the townhouse like a tragic Shakespearean heroine. All sighs and slammed doors.”
Matthew chuckled. “How old is she?”
“Fourteen and ferocious,” Oliver said with mock gravity. “Pray for the staff. The girl frightens footmen and diplomats alike.”
“God help us all when she’s let loose on society,” Benjamin murmured. “Indeed,” Oliver said, lifting his glass. “But for now, she remains safely under lock and key, while I’m left to chaperone our poor, dutiful Duke and cause mischief in slightly more glamorous company.” He gave Sarah one final glance, teasing, unrepentant, and altogether too charming.
“Speaking of glamorous company, Miss Weston, should you tire of all these earnest gentlemen with respectable titles and terribly sensible ideas, you know where to find me.” He didn’t expect a response. He simply smiled, standing comfortably among them all looking entirely at ease. Matthew’s jaw flexed, and while the hold on Sarah’s arm didn’t tighten, she felt the awareness between them sharpen like a string pulled just a little too taut.
“Well,” Grace murmured with a soft laugh once Oliver had sauntered off, already attracting a cluster of admirers. “Now you know exactly the sort of man to avoid.” Matthew and Benjamin shared a knowing look. “He really isn’t all that bad,” Matthew said after a moment, almost apologetic. “We have known him and The Duke since Eton. He’s more bark than bite.”
