Chapter 4
Matt had salvaged the marriage. Miss Reverly’s much needed dowry would be his, and his grandmother could rest easy. He’d not be jilted on the morrow.
Then again, he’d not had a fear of that. Matt had known he could work his way around Willa. She’d had more to lose than he had. He could have found another heiress... but what sort of life would she have had if she had succeeded in rejecting him? He’d saved her from being branded an eccentric and toddled off to some nether place reserved for headstrong and foolish women.
Although his sisters would have applauded her on. There wasn’t a one of them who would have approved of how Matt had treated Willa. And he did feel a bit ashamed.
As he rode through London’s busy streets, Matt had to admit that Willa Reverly had caught him off guard.
In the past, when he’d called upon her, they’d not spoken on any topic with depth. It had not been necessary. She was a means to an end, a way to fill his empty coffers. She’d seemed poised enough to be a duchess, and that was all that one expected.
Besides, when compared to Letty, Willa had lacked fire. He’d convinced himself that would be fine. Preferable, even. Except he hadn’t been excited or even truly interested in marrying her—until she’d threatened to jilt him that morning.
Now, it was as if he was noticing Willa for the first time. She was an attractive bit, and there obviously was a brain under all her hair. She had proven she had some spirit to her as well.
His mare kicked out as she passed an ostler leading two horses through the busy streets. “Sorry,” Matt muttered in answer to the man’s curses, and pushed the mare forward as his thoughts returned to his bride, and a decision.
Over his months at Mayfield, he’d vowed that he would never again let a woman make a fool of him the way Letty had. He would never again trust anyone so freely. He’d been too open with his heart, too caring, too bloody naïve.
No wonder he’d been such a terrible poet. And a foolish duke.
On the rare occasions when Matt had been with his grandfather, Henry had admonished him to not be “soft” like his father, Stephen. Both of his grandparents had believed that the actress Rose Billroy had bewitched Stephen into disappointing his family. Over the years, Matt had learned that they did not believe in the concept of “love.”
“Hogwash and nonsense,” Henry had declared when Matt had tried to defend his parents. “Love is lust in disguise. A forward-thinking man doesn’t let himself be led around by his short staff.”
Henry must have turned in his grave over the way Matt had tossed his heart at Letty.
However, Matt’s marriage to Willa was one of convenience. For both of them. A simple business transaction that would have met with Henry’s approval. Certainly, Minerva was pleased.
Matt would be a good husband to Willa. He would treat her fairly and with respect. In turn, she would have a position of authority in Society.
Nor was he going to mind bedding her. She was a tempting piece. Of the three Spinster Heiresses, Willa had been the one to catch his eye.
However, Matt was starting to think that, perhaps, his feelings for Letty had been nothing more than lust? Henry had once opined that if Stephen and Rose had lived longer, “They might have been as miserable as the rest of us. One can’t sustain passion.”
Certainly, Letty hadn’t been able to sustain her feelings for Matt for more than sixty days.
And the truth was, Letty had broken him. Matt would never allow himself to feel for any woman what he had for Letty. He’d never give his heart again. Or his trust. That was where he’d gone wrong. He’d given too much.
He turned the mare onto High Holborn Street. The hour was half past four. Matt caught up with his cousin George just as he was leaving his chambers.
George Addison was at least twenty-five years older than Matt. They shared the Addison height, although Matt was inches taller. George’s dark hair was now streaked with gray and his eyes were a trustworthy brown. In looks and manner, he reminded Matt of his own father, Stephen.
George’s sire had been Matt’s grandfather’s twin, and the younger by a mere two minutes. Henry’s favorite jest was that if George’s father had been quicker, he’d have been the duke.
It was a poor joke. Then again, if George had any resentment, he never showed it. In fact, he’d always been kind to Matt. When Matt’s father had died, George had been the only member of the Addison side to attend the small service. It was at the funeral that Alice had approached George about setting up a meeting between her and their grandparents. George could have refused, and then Alice, who had been newly married and starting a family of her own, would have found it difficult to gain an audience with Henry and Minerva.
Instead, according to Alice, George had championed her desire to see Matt properly educated. He’d helped sway Minerva and Henry’s opinions. If his uncle William had a voice in the matter, Matt had never heard.
George had also taken Matt aside and urged him to study hard. “You never know which way life will go. Study a profession. Make yourself useful.”
So Matt felt close to George. He valued his opinion. When Matt had inherited the title, George had supposedly shared everything he knew about the estate’s affairs... everything except the blackmail. Matt was anxious to hear what he had to say.
George was surprised by Matt’s appearance at his door but greeted him warmly. “Ah, so the prodigal duke has returned from the country. Therewillbe a wedding.”
“ ‘Prodigal’ duke?” Matt winced. “Is that what they are saying?”
“What? Do you believeI’dcoin such a phrase? But yes, it is whispered that you are licking lovesick wounds. There isn’t a betting book in town that doesn’t have a wager over whether you would show to wed the Reverly Heiress or not.”
