Matty looked around the wharf at Aylesbury and tried to pretend that everything was the same as it always had been.
She was on her own. And wasn’t she used to that? Wasn’t she coping? Certainly everyone told her so. Thanks to the kindly weather and the help she’d received from other canal folk, she’d sailed her boat here without incident. She’d called round the warehouses close by and secured a contract to carry some cases of pottery to London, which was just the kind of job she needed—light and well paid.
She had, moreover, met by chance with her good friends Bess and Daniel, who had arrived here to pick up a load of wheat. She’d had lunch with them at the alehouse on the quay, but unfortunately they’d wanted to know all about Jack. ‘Where’s that young fellow you took off with?’ Bess had demanded. ‘He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?’
‘No,’ Matty said. And changed the subject.
She’d been so terribly naive. There are no happy endings, she kept telling herself now as she gazed around the busy wharf. Certainly not with a man like him. The trouble was, she’d just started to believe otherwise.
Those days as she’d travelled with Jack on her boat had been like an idyllic dream. Yes, they’d had disagreements, but they’d had such fun, too. It had seemed so right, having Jack with her to tease her out of her anxieties and support her. And now—oh, how she missed him. Poor Hercules missed him, as well—he kept looking around whenever a man approached, as if hoping it might be Jack, but of course it wasn’t. Matty tried giving him carrots, but he refused them with a snort.
Nothing was the same without Jack. And Matty didn’t see how it ever could be, because he had changed everything. Changed her. She’d believed she was impervious to men, but Jack’s lightest touch had warned her that here was someone very different and very dangerous; though had she taken heed of that warning? No. She’d offered only the faintest resistance to his charms.
And when she’d been at her most vulnerable, on the night when she’d almost lost her boat, he’d held her and comforted her and then made love to her—and it had been a revelation. She’d surrendered to desire and to passion, she’d surrendered to the exquisite pleasure she’d always denied herself—leading to an implosion that had rocked her world, with him at its very centre.
She’d fallen in love, but all along he’d kept secrets from her. He’d not told her about his army career and his time as a prisoner of war. All of that she could understand—he was a proud man, after all, and wouldn’t want to confess his darkest moments. But he’d not told her about his lost inheritance, either, and instead he’d used her boat to get to his home, so he could find proof of his stepfather’s villainy.
And yet she’d forgiven him, time and time again! Only then, on that last day, as she led him to the field with the pine trees where she’d hoped so much that Roman treasure lay, Jack had told her he’d always known there was no historic site around here—because the field had been dug up over a century ago and the man who’d drawn up the old map was a fraud.
Two dreams were shattered at once: her vow to fulfil her father’s lifelong mission and her secret, burgeoning hope that, in Jack, she’d found someone special. He was certainly different, since he’d done something she thought was impossible. He’d broken her heart.
She wouldn’t be setting off south with her pottery until the next day, so that afternoon she wandered round Aylesbury, finding a quaint area that was full of shops selling prints and books and other curios. Down a back lane she came across a building with a faded sign hanging over the door—Antiques Bought And Sold—and when she peered inside, she saw that it was crammed with oddities. Memories of Mr Percival’s shop in Paddington suddenly assailed her and her heart screwed up tight inside.
Oh, Jack. She felt a huge pang of longing and of loss.
It was in that moment that a voice came from behind her.
‘I’ve just met up with your friends, Bess and Daniel. They suggested I might find you here.’
She whirled round.
It was Jack, looking ridiculously handsome in his smart London clothes; Jack, gazing at her with such intensity in his blue eyes that it almost stopped her breathing.
Her heart hammered. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Searching,’ he said. ‘For you. May we talk?’
She wanted so much to be strong and say no, but was it strong to run away? Better to stay and listen, surely, and treat him with the scorn he deserved. ‘You don’t give up easily, Jack,’ she said coolly, ‘do you? Very well. Since you insist, we’ll talk.’
He took her to a tavern that wasn’t as noisy as the alehouses near the quay and there he told her how he’d been to London to confront his stepfather in his Grosvenor Square mansion and had shown him the letter Matty had found.
‘What did your stepfather say?’
Keep cool. Keep calm, Matty.
She saw Jack give a grim smile. ‘It was pretty much as I expected. He blustered and he lied. I told him that unless he immediately made over the Charlwood estate to me, I would reveal him to the world as a fraudster and a charlatan. So I’ve got Charlwood back.’ He paused a moment, gazing into the fire glowing in the nearby hearth. Then he looked directly at her.
His blue gaze was like a sensual onslaught. Her lungs suddenly ached with the need for air. And he went on, ‘If it wasn’t for you, Matty, none of this—none of it—would have been possible.’
‘Well,’ she said with false brightness, ‘I’m glad I was of some use to you, Jack.’
‘You’ve been much more than that.’ His voice was low and intense. ‘So much more.’
‘I do hope you’re not thinking of offering me some kind of reward?’ She was already rising to her feet and the sound of her own chair grating across the floorboards was harsh in her ears. ‘Don’t forget that you deceived me from the very first day we met. You were clever, though, pretending all the time to believe my story about the Roman site. If you’ve come here hoping to salve your conscience by saying sorry, you’re just a little late, I’m afraid.’
She moved to go, but he was on his feet, too, and was grabbing her hand. ‘Stop. Please. Matty, I’ve moved into Charlwood Manor now...’
‘Good for you. No doubt the house and estate will keep you busy.’
‘That can all wait. The real reason I wanted to find you is this.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded document. ‘My first task, when I returned to Charlwood, was to look again through all the old plans of the estate. And look what I found.’
He’d spread the document on the table between them. ‘This,’ he went on, ‘is a much older map than the one you found. And it shows the site of some Roman remains—not where you thought they were, but a quarter of a mile away, do you see? So I’m here to ask you—will you come with me to examine this new site?’
‘So that you can claim the treasure, you mean?’ Her blood was heating up because of the way he was looking at her, but she fought down any expectation that things might have changed—until he put his hand, warm and strong, over hers.
She felt his gaze burning into her as he said, ‘I haven’t even thought about claiming the treasure. Come with me, I beg you. I’ve brought you a horse. It’s waiting outside, with mine.’
She looked at him. ‘You assumed I would come, then?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I prayed you would come. Shall I lead the way?’
Jack had been through many hellish situations in his life; but this time, he had to admit he’d never been so damned scared in all his life. She’d come to mean so much to him, this girl, in so short a time. She was independent, courageous and knowledgeable—and so damned lovely, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, right now.
It was raining slightly by the time they got to the site shown on his map and the air was chilly, but something in her eyes as she looked around warmed him to his core, because they shone with new-found hope. ‘This must have been pastureland for centuries,’ she was saying as she dismounted. ‘Do you agree?’
He tethered both their horses to a nearby tree. ‘It’s been used occasionally for sheep, that’s all. I checked the estate’s records.’
She was moving forward as carefully as if she was on sacred ground. ‘There are some ridges here that could just be the outline of a villa—they would be about the right size, the right shape. And over there are more raised areas that could have been barns or stables—’ She broke off suddenly. ‘Of course, I realise that anything here of value is yours, Jack. You’re the owner of the land.’
He stepped forward and his heart was thundering. He took her hand and kissed it; then he said, steady and clear, ‘If you marry me, Matty, it will be yours, as well.’
Her eyes were wide. ‘Jack?’ she whispered. But she didn’t pull away and that gave him the strength to persevere.
‘Marry me,’ he repeated. ‘There’s no one else for me.’
‘You can’t mean it.’
‘I’ve never been so sure of anything in my whole life. I love you, Matty, so I’m not going to waste time arguing. Instead I’m going to kiss you, which I wanted to do on the first day I met you, when you pulled down that shelf full of Ming vases on my attackers.’
‘But they weren’t—’
‘Yes, I know.’ He chuckled. ‘They were nothing like Ming vases. But even if they were, I would still have forgiven you—a thousand times over.’
He pulled her to him and he kissed her as if he would never let her go. And when he felt her slender arms twining around his shoulders, he thrilled to her touch and kissed her again; he kissed her out there in the field until she was clinging to him like a vine, arching her hips against him. And he was able to hope again, though then he held her away, just a little.
Why have you stopped? her look said. As if she was thinking, Are you going to let me down again?
Oh, no. Oh, God, no. He bent his head to kiss the delicate tip of her nose and said softly, ‘Matty, I love you. In fact, I adore you—but it’s raining. You might have noticed that, actually, it’s pouring down.’
She began to laugh. ‘We’re crazy,’ she said. And suddenly he was laughing, too, at the sheer, amazing absurdity of it all, their passionate embrace here in the middle of the rain-soaked field. He took her hands and swung her up in his arms—she was his new-found treasure and, by God, he wasn’t going to let her go.
He put her down at last, but still held her hand as he said, ‘Back to my house. Yes?’
She nodded, still breathless. ‘Yes. Back to Charlwood. And, Jack—I love you, too. Of course I do.’
He had to kiss her again after that. But then he suddenly remembered. ‘Your boat. And Hercules, back at the wharf...’
She wagged her finger, smiling. ‘Remember me? Capable Matty? I asked Bess and Daniel to look after them for me. They told me to take as long as I need.’
‘Good,’ he said softly. ‘Because it’s going to take me quite a while to say—and do—everything I want to this time, believe me.’
She was a little afraid of what the staff might think as Jack led her through the front door, but somehow all the servants had miraculously disappeared. Knowing Jack as she did, Matty did wonder if he had sent advance orders.
Out of my way. I’m arriving soon with a very special guest.
A rather rain-soaked guest, as it happened; but she wasn’t cold in the least, because he had his arm around her as they hurried up the staircase to his room—what a lovely room, with huge windows looking out over the park! In there a fire was burning, making the air toasty warm.
She hadn’t ever believed in fairy tales. But for now she had to as she stood there dripping water on his expensive carpet like a drowned thing and he came up to her and began firmly yet with the utmost tenderness to strip her wet clothes from her, then wrap her in a huge fluffy towel and settle her, very firmly again, on his vast bed with its heaps of pillows.
And then he was stripping off his own wet clothes and was striding towards her stark naked and... Oh, my, Matty thought. She had never seen a more glorious sight in all her life.
His blue eyes glittered darkly as he eased her into the centre of the bed, then he began to kiss her everywhere: her lips, the tender tips of her breasts, until all of her body was exposed and aching for him. He kissed her down there, in her most secret place, taking his time until she was writhing with need; then he came back to reclaim her mouth and he slid that hard, proud length that was the very essence of his maleness into the heart of her. He was touching her down there, too, a knowing touch; she felt the wave of need swell and roar as he drove into her and, when she started to fall apart in shattering pleasure, she felt him join with her and cry out her name.
She woke in his arms an hour later. They were both still deliciously naked, but he’d covered them with a crisp linen sheet. She stirred sleepily—and then she remembered. She was a canal girl. He was wealthy. All this, the beautiful house, its farms and land, belonged to him.
He’d propped himself up on one elbow and was watching her, his mouth curling in gentle amusement. ‘What are you worried about this time, darling Matty?’
She struggled for the words. You. Regretting this. Me. I shouldn’t be here...
‘The servants,’ she blurted out. ‘They might think—’
‘Let them think what the hell they like,’ he said lazily. He moved slightly so he was positioned over her, that stunning body of his stretched out so exquisitely that it started off the familiar pulse of need. ‘They’ll be perfectly content to be told you’re going to be my wife. I’m sure they think it’s time I settled down and became respectable.’
His wife. There. He’d said it again! But still she couldn’t quite believe it. ‘Jack. Jack, I don’t want you to do something you might regret. We’ve not known each other for long, after all. Only a matter of weeks.’
‘Is that all?’ He was studying her with a small frown on his face, then he reached to kiss the corner of her chin; a delicate kiss that nevertheless set her heart racing. ‘Do you know, I feel as though we’ve known one another for much longer than that. I love you, darling Matty. And I’ve been waiting for you all my life.’
She drew away from him a little and he felt his breathing stop. He’d found the ultimate treasure in her, and if she didn’t want him, then his inheritance could go hang because it would be meaningless without her.
‘There’s one condition, Jack.’ She turned back to him. Her face was solemn and his heart sank. If she was going to ask something impossible, how would he cope?
Then he saw those mischievous dimples playing around the corners of her adorable mouth. And she said, ‘Can I keep Hercules?’
He gave a shout of laughter then pulled her to him, and she was every bit as eager for the kiss as he was. He heard her whispering, ‘I love you, Jack, so much. I’m yours. All yours,’ and he knew, then, that she truly was.