A Perfect Gentleman(46)

Grace was still trying to recover from what she just experienced. It was as if her body exploded with pleasure from inside. Goodness, it was spectacular, yet it seemed as if something was missing, empty. At least until Matthew started filling her. It was a bit uncomfortable but she desired it and knew this is what she needed. Her pulse quickened anew and her breathing became harsh. Deep inside her continued to ache. He just needed to get there.

Grace bent her knees and tilted her hips, drawing him closer, deeper.

Matthew stopped and her eyes opened. Surely this wasn’t all there was.

He leaned forward and gave her the most gentle and sweetest kiss she had ever experienced a moment before he thrust forward. Pain tore through her insides and Grace bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Matthew stilled again and she looked up at him. “I am sorry.”

“I wasn’t expecting pain.”

He kissed a tear from her cheek. “No one had ever explained the veil of virginity to you before.”

“No.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I will, another time.”

He edged deeper. It wasn’t nearly as painful, but Grace feared it would hurt again.

“I promise you that you will never know that pain again.”

Thank goodness.

He moved deeper yet. She didn’t think it was possible for him to go any further.

“Does it still hurt?”

There was a dull ache, which was disappearing. “Not as it did,”

“Thank goodness.” He withdrew and plunged again. There was no pain this time and heat once again began to spread through her body.

“His pace increased and a moment later he stiffened before collapsing beside her on the bed.

His breathing was harsh and all Grace could assume was that he had just experienced something similar to the explosion he caused in her earlier.

Matthew smiled up at her and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

She grew cold and shivered now that the heat from their making love had passed. Matthew rose from the bed and tossed more logs on the fire. When he bent she got a good glimpse of his backside. His buttocks was tight and thighs muscular and Grace started to become warm all over again. It wasn’t long before the fire was burning hot and bright. But she no longer needed it to keep her warm.

Matthew picked her nightgown up off of the floor and helped her put it back on.

“It is best that you are covered if anyone were to come in the room.”

“I don’t think anyone would.”

“Were you expecting Mrs. Montgomery the other morning?”

It was a valid point and Grace pulled the nightgown over her head and crawled back beneath the covers. Matthew slid in the bed beside her and pulled her close. “I think we shall both be able to sleep now.”

Grace hid a yawn behind her hand and nodded. “With very sweet dreams I am sure.”

A moment later she was jolted from her sleep.



“Stay here.” Matthew jumped from the bed and put on his breeches before moving to the door. He stopped only long enough to retrieve a pistol from the inside of his coat draped across a chair.

Shouts and crashes could be heard from below. It had to be her uncle. Who else would John be fighting with?

The sounds became clearer when Matthew opened the door.

“She is my niece and I will say what happens to her.”

“You are not in charge of her, Stillwaite.”

“I will be.” A pistol fired and Matthew took off down the hall. Grace could not remain in bed and await the outcome. She slid into her slippers and followed Matthew. Elizabeth and Matthew were rushing down the stairs when she reached the top of the landing. Both held pistols.

Her uncle was standing in the middle of the foyer waving a gun around. There was a hole in the ceiling. At last John hadn’t been shot but was standing at the parlor door, a gun in his hand and aimed at Uncle Henry.

“Put the gun away, Stillwaite,” Matthew said in a calm, even tone.

“I will have what is mine.”

“None of this is yours,” Matthew reminded him.

“It should be,” he shouted, red with rage. “My brother is wasting good land while I have nothing.”

“You have a large estate in Kent.”

“That loadstone around my neck?” He spit. “It costs more than it produces.”

Jordan Trent slipped in the front door, his right eye swelling shut and discolored.”

“Sell it,” Mr. Trent suggested.

Stillwaite turned on him. “That is my ancestry home. I will not sell my estate.”

“It is not entailed,” Matthew questioned.

“No,” his brother answered and pulled away from the wall. “In fact, nothing he owns is entailed. I wrote to my partners earlier in the week to dig up everything they could on Stillwaite. The package was waiting for me when I returned this evening.”

Jordan turned on Stillwaite. “Your home is full of artwork, gold, jewels. Selling off half of your estate would help see you out of debt.”

“Why should I? Those are mine!”

The man had lost his mind. He kept turning circles in the foyer, stumbling this way and that. “Have you been drinking, uncle.”

He wheeled and focused on Grace. “You! If you would have done what you were told and married one of those blokes I would not be in this mess.”

“It is a mess of your own making,” Jordan Trent reminded him.

“Poor crops were not my fault.” The man’s face was almost purple. Grace had never seen anything like it.

“But sinking into gambling to solve the problem was.”

“There is nothing wrong with gambling. Nothing I tell you.”

There was no reasoning with the man. Matthew moved further down the steps. “So you would have your niece out of the way, dead, so you don’t have to sell your estate and be able to live in luxury.”

“Of course,” he shouted. “Don’t you understand? It is my right! I am Viscount Stillwaite and no chit is going to stand in my way of getting what I want.”

He lunged toward Grace but before anyone could grab hold of him he slumped against the wall and stared up at her. His arm dropped to the side and half of his face relaxed. It was the oddest sight. His knees buckled and slid down the wall, dropping to the floor until he collapsed. Matthew rushed forward and rolled him over. Uncle’s eyes were upon, staring into nothing.

Movement from the hall caught her eye and she turned to find her father standing just outside of the foyer, leaning heavily on his cane.

Perkins was at his side. “We heard the commotion and your father wouldn’t remain in bed.”

Papa shook his head sadly then turned and shuffled down the hall. It must pain him so to see his brother like this but all Grace could feel was relief. It was over and hopefully Uncle Stillwaite found whatever peace he was missing.



Elizabeth and Audrey stood back and stared at Grace. They had not allowed her to even glance toward a mirror since she woke this morning. Today was her wedding day and she would become Mrs. Matthew Trent. It was hard to believe that just a short week ago her life was in turmoil. Her father lay close to death and her uncle was trying to kill her. But all of that was behind her. There was nothing but a brilliant future ahead.

After Stillwaite’s collapse, Brachton saw that Draker was shipped off to London to be dealt with and wrote a letter explaining the events and Draker’s involvement as well as Richards. Stillwaite’s body was sent to his estate in Kent and Grace assumed he was buried in the family cemetery. Her father was now Viscount Stillwaite since uncle had never married or produced heirs, but from what she gathered he had no desire to take up residence there and had every intention of selling it to pay off the debts.

“Are you sure papa can go to the church?” She asked again.

Elizabeth smiled indulgently. Jordan and John have already seen to helping him in the carriage.

It was father who insisted on a church wedding, though he relinquished the honor of walking her down the aisle to Lord Crew. Papa was still recovering and could only walk a few feet before he had to rest.

“It was kind of Lord Brachton to provide the wedding breakfast but I don’t see that it is necessary. There will be but a few of us. It isn’t like I am having a grand wedding in London.”

Elizabeth and Audrey shared a look. It was Audrey who spoke. “Did no one tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Don’t let anything go wrong. Not today.

“Everyone feels horrible with how they treated you and Vicar Trent. After his last sermon, those who were present let it be known the truth.”

“Though some still thought it was wrong for him to remain in your room,” Elizabeth interjected.

If they knew the half of it that night she would be ruined, or what occurred the last night he was in the house.

“And even though they haven’t been invited, several asked to attend, sort of an apology,” Audrey added.

“Besides, your reputation is saved as well as Mr. Trent’s, now that you are marrying.”

Elizabeth stepped aside and pulled a cover from the mirror in her room. Audrey turned her so that she could look. Grace gasped. Her hair was pulled away from her face, yet ringlets fell down her back. Buds from late blooming roses were pinned in her hair and she held a nosegay of fall wildflowers. Her dress was simple, yet elegant, caressing her skin with its soft, pale satin.