"WELCOME TO BRISBANE MANOR," Lady Thomas announced cheerfully. Their butler must've been keeping a look out for our carriage, because by the time we reached the residence steps, our hosts were already outside.

"It's good to see you Lady Thomas," I greeted. "Thank you for inviting us." I nodded to her husband. They were both in their late ages, but I could swear Lord Thomas looked a decade younger than she. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, sir."

"Oh none of that!" Lady Thomas answered brightly. "Call me Mary."

"Mother," Matthew said, kissing her on both cheeks. "I was meaning to visit you soon."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course you were. Inside."

Mary took us on a tour of the entire household before we finally had lunch. The conversation was polite enough, until Lord Thomas mentioned children. "It's been four years," Lord Thomas said, as if we did not know already. "When are you going to make a go of it?" My venison nearly got caught in my throat.

"We're trying," Matthew replied smoothly. "We just haven't been blessed with one yet."

"Oh really?" Mary asked. Her words had a purposeful, sarcastic drawl that I immediately deciphered. I gave Matthew a glance, hoping he'd see it for the bait that it was.

"Really."

"Then why am I hearing rumors that you have some pregnant tramp living with you and your wife?" A pervasive quiet followed. No one dared to move. "How can you do such a thing Matthew? How can you hurt your wife this way? How can you do something so shameful?"

"Mother," Matthew said slowly.

"When I heard the rumor, I could scarcely believe it. I knew I had raised my son better than that. Forget all the hurt you're causing. It disrespects your wife, your name, and mine. You bring disgrace upon the whole family," Mary continued.

"That was not my intention."

"That is the effect," Mary exclaimed. "I hear that she's a harlot, or was anyway, so I don't think it would be wise to claim her child. I doubt it's even yours. But many respectable men father bastards and do so discreetly. Send the child and the mother far away and give an annual allowance for his caretaking. That is the way."

"I will do no such thing," Matthew bit out.

"Fine Matthew! Give her a house in the countryside. Look after the child and father him like an heir if you wish. You can even take guardianship if you like. But that woman cannot live with you. She cannot."

"He's going to marry her," I interjected. All of their eyes swiftly cut to me. "He's going to marry her and divorce me."

"He will not marry her," Mary said in a tone that almost made me cower. "I will not have a whore as a daughter-in-law."

"He loves her, Mary. Believe me, I too was against the divorce at first. But I came around. You will too."

Mary looked at me as if I'd grown two heads. "What on earth is wrong with you? You should be thanking me."

"I should be thanking you?" I echoed.

"I am trying to save your marriage and guide my son down the right path." Her face looked hesitant, as if she was resisting the urge to say something, but she opened her mouth again. "If you'd done a better job of keeping your husband he wouldn't have had the gall to move in his mistress in the first place." Lord Thomas put a hand on his wife's arm. He was undoubtedly very uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Don't talk to her like that," Matthew snapped.

"Excuse me?" Mary shot back.

"Don't talk to her like that, Mother. If you want to scold me, scold me. But you will not include Rose. She's done nothing wrong."

"You needn't defend me," I said with more irritation than I meant.

"But I will. I don't care who insults you, Rose. I won't let them," Matthew said. I ignored the surge of happiness that coursed through me at his response.

Lord Thomas smiled. We all stared daggers at him. "You care about each other," he said.

"Of course they do," Mary retorted. "They're just stupid."

Matthew stood up. "Thank you for inviting us, Mother but I think we'll take our leave now." Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a streak of lightning bounced outside followed by an immediate clap of thunder. I instinctively flinched.

"It's not safe to drive in this weather," Lord Thomas said. Matthew and I both knew he was right.

I put a hand to my temple. "May I ask where our rooms are? I have a headache and I should like to rest."

"I second that," Matthew agreed.

Mary rolled her eyes. "I'll have a servant take you to them."

***

"It is always the fault of wives," I grumbled. "Forget that men are their own beings responsible for their own choices. Apparently women are responsible for everything."

"Apparently," Matthew replied drily as we continued down the hall.

"I hate polite society," I went on, as we followed the servant to our rooms. "If I were to choose my place in the world, I think I would've liked to become a kitchen maid."

Matthew smiled wryly at me. "A kitchen maid?"

"Yes. Kitchen maids get to cook. I love to cook."

"When have you ever cooked?"

I shrugged. "I wager I'd be very good at it."

"So, you like the idea of cooking then?"

"Same difference. All you need is an apron and some sense."

Matthew's eyes were sparkling. "You'd look very good in an apron."

"Thank you," I said primly, resisting the urge to melt under his comment. "What position of the lower class would you occupy?"

"A houseboy, I think."

I peered at him. "Why a house boy?"

Matthew grinned. "They're always fraternizing with the kitchen maids."

"This is your room Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield," the servant interrupted. We were at the end of the hall.

"Room? Singular?" I looked at the door. "We're meant to share it?"

The servant girl looked between the two of us, confused. "I believe so ma'am." We stared at her silently. "Would you like me to ask Lady Thomas to make other arrangements?"

"Gods, no." Matthew said. "That will be all, thank you." We both entered the room cautiously, as if we were expecting something to jump out. It was beautiful and large, like the rest of the manor. I looked at the bed. We'd never shared one before. "Would you like me to sleep on the floor?"

"That won't be necessary. The bed is big enough for both of us." I kicked off my shoes, and settled on the right side of the bed. Matthew peeled off his overcoat before setting it on a nearby chair. He buttoned down his vest before setting that aside too. I watched with a terrible fascination. Matthew met my gaze as he tugged on his cravat.

"Is something the matter?"

"No." My voice came out in a terrible rasp. "No," I repeated.

"If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'm happy to ask my mother for another room."

"I'm fine."

Matthew kicked off his own shoes before joining me in the bed. He smiled wickedly. "Were you worried I was going to get completely naked?"

I felt blazing hot at the suggestion. "You promised not to flirt," I said accusingly.

"I'm not." His smile didn't leave his lips. "It was an honest question."

I turned away from him and looked up at the ceiling. It was like the lightning from the storm had filled the room. I shivered, despite myself. "Of course you wouldn't get naked." My voice was a whisper. "You wouldn't dare." There was a hint of a challenge in my voice that I couldn't help. A stupid, unthinkable challenge. I had told him to have me or leave me. He had promised to leave me be. And yet... I took another look at my husband, a silent provocation in my glance.

"Is that so?" His voice held a gravity that thrilled me. Slowly, he unfastened the buttons of his shirt. My breath caught once it was undone. He threw it on the ground. He peeled off his socks before starting at his breeches. I'd never noticed his calves before they were exposed. I never knew the sight of exposed legs could give someone such a heady rush. Once his breeches were off, I didn't know I was breathing.

But then I heard myself say, "See? I knew you wouldn't dare."

"No, I wouldn't dare." His voice made me ache. "If I do...I wouldn't be able to stop myself. And I promised I wouldn't touch you." I couldn't think straight. I made my way toward the other end of the bed. Matthew inched away from me. "Rose, don't."

"You promised not to touch me." I traced my fingers against his chest. I felt him tremble. "I never promised not to touch you." I placed a kiss on his erratic heart. And then another on his neck.

"You must stop," Matthew growled.

But I couldn't. My body was flooded with a crazed heat that wouldn't let me pull away. My fingers traversed down his back before reaching the hem of his undergarments.

"Do not." This was not a command. It was a guttural plea. I looked up at the chiseled face that was causing so much yearning. I teased a finger along the small of his back before slowly pulling the bit of cloth. "Rose-"

A knock sounded on the door with a simultaneous clap of thunder. I jolted back as if I had been struck by lightning. "It's Mary," Lady Thomas said. "I'm very sorry about the way I acted earlier. I'd like to apologize."

"Not now, Mother," Matthew snapped.

"Son—"

"I said not now!"

We heard a breathy sigh followed by retreating footsteps. Matthew practically leapt from the bed to put on his clothes. "I'm going to find another room to sleep in," he said, without meeting my gaze.

"You don't have to do that," I said weakly.

"I do!" His voice was taut. "This, he gestured to his fallen clothes, cannot happen again."

"Matthew..."

"I will not hurt you!" A vein was straining in his neck. The husband that was previously in my arms was ruddy faced and frustrated. I desperately wished I could hold him again. "I will not hurt you, Rose."