Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

" D inner was wonderful," Matthew said as they returned from the dining room to the sitting room. "Cressida and I truly can't thank you enough."

"I hope you aren't leaving already?" Edwina asked. "It's still quite early, after all. I personally am not ready for the night to come to an end."

"We've finished our meal," Matthew pointed out, smiling at his sister. She never did seem to want a good time to come to an end. And in spite of his misgivings, he had to concede the fact that tonight had been a good time. He had enjoyed himself, and he was glad they had come.

"What about a tour of the house?" Edwina suggested.

"I've seen your home a dozen times."

"I know you have, but Cressida hasn't. This is her first time here, Matthew. We ought to make the most of it. Don't you think we should?"

"I do," Matthew allowed. "But it isn't that early, Edwina, and I wonder whether Cressida is tired."

It wasn't only her physical well-being that Matthew worried about. He knew Cressida had been through quite a lot lately. He knew she was still caught up in thoughts of her sister and everything that had nearly happened on the road to Gretna Green. Tonight's party had been a good diversion from those troubles, but he didn't want to press her farther than she was willing to go.

But when he looked at Cressida, he saw that she was smiling. "I'd like to see the rest of the house," she said. "I think your home is positively lovely, Edwina. So warm and inviting."

"Thank you!" Edwina beamed. "That's exactly the way we want our guests to feel while they're here. Come, let me show you a little more of the place."

Cressida took Matthew by the arm as Edwina led them up the wide, sweeping stairs to the second floor of the house. The stairs deposited them onto a long hallway with a carpet running down the center of it. Cressida stopped briefly to admire it. "This is beautiful," she said.

"Thank you," Edwina said again. "I chose that, as a matter of fact. It was part of the redecorating I did when I moved in. Now, this is the upstairs sitting room." She pushed open a pair of double doors and guided them inside. "This is where we prefer to spend time with guests who are staying for several days, and it's also where Allan and I spend time together when we are here on our own. As you can see, it's a bit less formal than the room downstairs. The furniture is a bit older—actually, this furniture was in the downstairs sitting room, but I moved it all up here and purchased new things for downstairs."

"You didn't want to buy new things for both rooms?"

"This furniture is so comfortable that I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it," Edwina explained. "Even though I know it's a bit run down."

"Oh, I think it looks very nice," Cressida assured her. "I just meant that if I was choosing new things for a house, I might find myself wanting to choose all new things. Even when there was no need. Just for the fun of it."

"It was fun," Edwina agreed. "I'm sure my brother hasn't let you change so much as a candle in his house."

She glanced pointedly at Matthew, who turned away and looked out the window.

She was right, of course. He hadn't let Cressida make any major changes—it had been their very first disagreement. It bothered him that his sister knew him so well, and it bothered him that she was bringing the matter up. He found himself concerned that Cressida might become disappointed—that she might think she had been cheated of an experience she should have been allowed to have.

For all he knew, that was the truth. Maybe he should have allowed her to make changes to the house. The fact remained that he didn't think he could have tolerated it, but maybe he should have tried harder, for her sake.

He sighed. This had been a pleasant evening, but he wouldn't have said it had had the effect he'd hoped when they'd made the plan. He hadn't found himself understanding any better the feelings that had been growing within him for Cressida.

The tour of the house moved on. They saw the conservatory, and Lavinia treated them to a brief song on the pianoforte. They visited the balcony that looked out over the grounds, though there wasn't much to see at night, and Cressida did seem impressed with what was before her.

"The grounds are massive," she observed. "How much of all this is your property?"

"All the way to that line of trees," Allan said. "You can see their shadows off in the distance."

Cressida nodded. "That's a long way off," she observed.

"It's a wonderful place for a picnic," Edwina said. "Perhaps the next time we all get together, we might eat outside and play some games. That would be a lovely afternoon."

"I quite agree," Seth chimed in. "That sounds like a wonderful way to spend a day, Edwina. We ought to make a plan for it as soon as possible."

"But for tonight, Cressida and I should be on our way home," Matthew said. "The evening really has gone on long enough."

"But the tour isn't over," Edwina protested. "She must see the library, Matthew."

"Oh, let me see the library before we go," Cressida agreed, turning to Matthew. "You know how I love a library. Is it as wonderful as the one we have at home?"

"Not as big," Edwina said. "But I'm very fond of it all the same. Come, follow me and I'll show you."

She turned and led the way toward the library without waiting for Matthew to give his opinion on what they were doing. Cressida glanced at him briefly, and Matthew knew that he had the opportunity to tell her to stop and that they would do this another time, but he didn't. He saw how eager her expression was, how bright her eyes were, and he couldn't find it within him to deny her what she so clearly wanted.

She'd been through enough hardship lately. She had faced enough difficulties. If there was something that would make her a little happy, even if only for a little while, he wanted to provide it. She had smiled tonight, and he wanted her smile to continue as long as it possibly could.

So he followed along to the library. He had always thought that Edwina was right to be fond of this room. While it was true that it wasn't as large as his own and didn't house as many books, there was something comforting about the space. He liked to spend time here, beside the roaring fire that was a constant presence until it was put out at the end of each night. It made him question the fact that he didn't like to light fires in his own library—he knew that he was doing his best to care for his books, but perhaps there was some value to creating the most beautiful room possible, even if one did take a few chances with the books themselves.

Cressida was walking around now, looking at the various tomes. "This is wonderful," she said. "You have all kinds of things that Matthew doesn't."

"That's because Matthew never buys anything new," Edwina said with a smile. "He doesn't believe in updating a library the way I do. But that's all right. He has the old collection, and I have the new. Would you like to borrow something?"

"I might, if it's all right with you. And with Allan, of course."

Allan laughed. "Don't look at me," he said. "I can't even remember the last time I said no to my headstrong wife! But I wouldn't turn down this request anyway. Of course you may borrow a book, Cressida, if you would like to."

"Why don't we give you some time in the library?" Edwina suggested. "Pick whatever you'd like. We ought to see if the staff is doing well cleaning up from dinner, but once you've settled on whatever it is you'd like to borrow, you can come and meet us downstairs and we will say our farewells for the evening."

"Thank you, truly," Cressida said. "It's very generous of you."

"We're sisters, aren't we? Sisters ought to share their things." Edwina smiled and made her way to the door. Allan followed her out, and so did Lavinia and Seth, and Matthew and Cressida were left on their own in the library.

"Do you think she means it?" Cressida asked. "That I'm welcome to borrow something?"

"Of course she does," Matthew told her. "Edwina is headstrong, but she's always been very generous. It's one of her best qualities. I'm sure she would be happy to have you take a couple of books."

"One will be enough for me." Cressida selected a book from the shelf. "I don't mean to impugn your collection, of course. It's just that I've always loved books of all kinds, and Edwina is right—she has all sorts of things here that you don't have at home."

"It's quite all right," Matthew said with a small smile. "My sister and I have different taste, after all. It's all very well for you to want to read from both of our collections. I'm sure I would want the same in your shoes."

Cressida was gazing at the portrait that hung over the fireplace. "That's lovely," she said.

"That's our family portrait. Father gave it to Edwina for a wedding gift," Matthew said.

"Then that little boy is you?"

"That's me."

"He does look like you. Right down to the severe expression on his face."

Matthew laughed. "Sitting for portraits was a serious affair."

"And this lady is your mother? She's lovely." Cressida stepped closer to the portrait to get a better look.

Matthew cleared his throat, placed his hands gently on her shoulders, and turned her away. "Now, look at this one," he said, wanting to divert her from any more examination of the family portrait.

"This is Edwina and Allan?"

"That's right. Edwina and Allan sat for that portrait shortly after their marriage," Matthew recalled. "I'm sure the painter was driven mad by my sister. Sitting still has never been one of her strengths."

"Well, the painter did a wonderful job, regardless of whatever difficulties Edwina might have given him." She hesitated for a moment. "You've never mentioned a portrait of the two of us."

"I don't think I'd much like to sit still and be painted."

"Well, it wouldn't need to be like that," Cressida said. "What if you were to paint us?"

"How could I paint myself without a subject to look at?"

"I saw the picture you drew of me," she reminded him. "I wasn't there when you did that. You did it from memory. You could paint yourself the same way—from your own memory. Don't you think you could do it?"

"Perhaps I could," Matthew allowed.

"I'm sure you could." She beamed up at him.

The way she looked at him took Matthew's breath away. No one had ever looked at him that way, and he had never realized that he wanted someone to. It was a look full of admiration—and not just the usual admiration, the way business partners looked at him when they thought he was clever or the way his sisters had always looked at him when he did something they liked.

This was different. It was as if she had discovered a completely new type of person. It was as if, by looking at him, she was seeing something she had never seen before.

It wasn't just admiration in her eyes. It was wonder .

And it made Matthew feel as if, to her, he was something very rare and special indeed.

And that's the same way I see her, he realized, his own wonder growing. This was what Allan and Seth had been talking about. This was the beauty of finding yourself, against all odds, in a marriage that was based on love.

"I'll do it," he said, for how could he refuse her anything? "I'll make us a portrait?"

"Will you?"

"If it would make you happy, then of course I will."

He took her in his arms and smiled at her, knowing what he was about to do. It was the last thing he had planned for, and going against plans made Matthew deeply uncomfortable most of the time—but somehow, right now, it didn't seem to matter.

He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, thankful for the quiet solitude in which his sisters had left them, thankful for the warm crackling fire and the certainty he felt, as she returned his kiss, that she wanted this too.

And thankful for the fact that the two of them were married, and whatever was blossoming between them, they had all the time and freedom in the world to figure it out.