The Matrimonial Advertisement by Matthews Mimi

Author:Matthews, Mimi
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Perfectly Proper Press
Published: 2018-09-03T16:00:00+00:00

Helena drew back from him in white-faced shock. “We are not.”

“Helena—”

“No.” Her voice was sharp and brittle to her ears.

She rose from the sofa and walked away from him. She didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to put distance between them. The mere mention of London was enough to make her want to run. She didn’t care where.

“Helena, wait.” Justin stood to follow her. “Let me explain.”

She stopped in front of the bedroom window. The heavy curtains were drawn back to reveal the rain-streaked glass. She stared unseeing out over the drive. “I can’t go back there. I won’t.”

Justin came to stand at her side. He was just outside of her line of vision. She could feel him there, big and warm and masculine.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked.

She folded her arms at her waist. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She shook her head, refusing to explain. But there was no keeping the words to herself. They tumbled out in spite of her resolve. “Everything bad that’s ever happened to me has happened in London. My mother…and Giles…and my uncle and Mr. Glyde…” She cast an anguished glance at Justin over her shoulder. He was standing there, grave and still. “Don’t you see? I’ve never been more alone in my life than when I was in that wretched city. And if I go back now…I know my uncle will take me. I’ll be no better than an animal walking straight into a trap. They’ll lock me away in Lowbridge House and this time there’ll be no escape. Nothing I can do to save myself.”

Justin moved in front of her, filling her vision. His large frame blocked out the light as he leaned back, half sitting on the window embrasure. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Helena’s throat tightened with emotion. She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry. She hadn’t shed a tear since those weeks after Giles’s death. And she certainly wouldn’t do so now.

Justin reached out to her. “Come here.”

She took his hand, allowing him to draw her into an embrace. Her skirts pressed against his trousers, the deeply flounced hemline pooling over the toes of his polished leather boots. She rested her cheek on the soft woolen fabric of his waistcoat, feeling his arms close around her, holding her safe against the broad expanse of his chest.

He said nothing for a long while. He merely held her, one large hand moving idly over her back until she began to relax against him, her breath coming slow and even.

“There’s a gentleman in London by the name of Charles Pelham,” he said at length. His voice was a deep rumble. She could hear it as well as feel it, emanating from his chest as he held her close. “He’s a passing acquaintance of Finchley’s.”

A fine hum of tension coursed through her body. “Is he a doctor?”

“God no.” He bent his head down to hers. His cheek brushed over her hair. “He’s a newspaperman. An editor at the London Courant, and a well-respected one, at that.

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