Page 49 of The Ones Left Behind
He moved towards her on his crutches and she stood as still as a statue. This was what concerned her most. A charming Matthias was irresistible. The angry, hurt Matthias was easier to bear. She did not know how to behave or guard her feelings in this moment.
The touch of his hand to her arm made her almost jump out of her skin. It was like a bolt of lightning which set her on fire and had the power to destroy everything in its path.
“Please do not do that,” she whispered.
“Is my touch repulsive to you? Earlier, I thought it might not be unwelcome.”
She could hear the uncertainty in his voice and she could not bring herself to respond as she ought. “No.” Her breath caught on the word as he gently trailed his fingers down the skin of her arm. Her senses were heightened and her breathing felt rushed. How she wished this were real, but how could she trust it? It was not that she did not believe he would marry her, but she did not think he could love her as she loved him. Why, then, was he doing this? She could not think sensibly when he touched her like that and it was only a small, simple touch of his fingers on her arm. Did he realize what that was doing to her?
Distantly, in her mind, she was aware of footsteps approaching and she pulled her arm away without reprimand. She did not want to attach more importance to it than was warranted. How easy it would be to allow Matthias’s advances but once the newness wore off, she would be hurt again. The wounds from the first time had barely healed, and she did not want them reopened.
Thankfully, there was little time for more private conversation, although she detected hurt in his eyes. “Kitty, don’t withdraw from me, that is all I ask. Open yourself to the possibility of our marriage.”
She watched as he struggled to walk over to greet his friends. What must they think of her pretending to be his hostess? She did not think the gentlemen would judge her harshly; they had known her before. The ladies, however, how would they feel? The two were sisters and together their beauty could have turned the armies of Europe into drivelling fools. Kitty smiled, but felt very intimidated.
They walked towards her, and she was grateful for her gown. Perhaps Matthias had been correct about the gown, but could he not see that the rest was impossible—how much harder this would make things when his friends left? She was unable to continue her painful questions, as the ladies approached. Kitty had unknowingly stayed in her spot by the chair.
She moved forward and curtsied. “Good evening, your Grace, my lady.”
“Good evening, but we must dispense with the formality, if you please,” the Duchess said kindly. “Among friends, I am Meg, and my sister is Amelia.”
The Duke brought glasses of sherry for each of them—something Kitty should have thought to do, she chastised herself.
“Thank you, your Grace.” She dropped into a curtsy. Waverley had been Peter’s commanding officer and had been next to him when he was killed. He had spent many an hour at their tent or table during the various campaigns.
“There will be none of that, Kitty.” He reached forward and pulled her into a hug. “Now, what is this I hear of you trying to be a housekeeper?”
“Not you, too,” she chided as she pulled away.
“Of course I, too.”
It was ironic that, as an army wife, she had spent hours doing very much what a housekeeper did, but here it was considered beneath her.
He led her away from the others to the far side of the room. “Just because Nigel Gordon is a pompous spendthrift does not mean all of us are. We established a Trust for you after Peter’s death but assumed Gordon was looking after you. Then you hurried away after Philip’s wedding.”
Kitty could not believe what she was hearing.
“You do not need to marry or be a housekeeper, my dear. You are free to do as you wish.”
Kitty blinked back tears.
“We will discuss the details at length later, but I hope it will remove a weight from your shoulders and allow you to enjoy our company.”
CHAPTER14
Matthias watched anxiously from the other side of the room, trying to listen with one ear to Philip and with the other to what Waverley was saying.
“I just said, ‘pigs fly,’ and ‘Prinny was frugal,’ and you heard not a single word,” Philip said with amusement.
The words registered a minute too late. “I am sorry, old friend. I am a little distracted at the moment.”
“He will not say anything to harm your case,” Philip commented knowingly.
Matthias cast a doubtful look at Philip. “I overheard him say something about the Trust.”
“Yes, the one we all contributed to after Peter’s death for if she ever had need of it. It should be a nice settlement for her by now.”
“I had forgotten about it,” Matthias admitted, “but if she had only asked one of us, we would have given her anything she required.”
