I wanted to tell her there was nothing wrong with wanting more, that we should all strive to improve ourselves in some way. But I suspected she didn't want to hear more hard truths. Besides, Catherine wasn't going anywhere in the foreseeable future. She may be adventurous but she lacked the means and knowledge to go adventuring on her own. Her life must be shelved until someone with the means and knowledge could show her the world.
I suddenly felt immeasurably sad for her. It wasn't fair that she couldn't do the things she wanted to do without securing a husband first. It drove home how much we women relied on finding a husband who matched our sensibilities, dreams and values. If we did not, life became an endless slog.
I put on a smile for Catherine as she walked us to our carriage with her parents, but she saw through it.
"What did my mother want?" she whispered, eyeing Mrs. Mason's back.
"My assurance that I wouldn't lead you down a dark, magical path," I lied.
She rolled her eyes. "I wish I had some magical ability. How exciting it would be."
"To hide it from the world and not be yourself? I don't think you want that."
"It's not all that different to what I'm doing now, is it?" She sighed. "Hiding my feelings for Nate is growing harder each day. I find myself thinking about him all the time."
"Then you need to find something else to occupy your mind. Why not visit museums or learn everything you can about a topic that intrigues you?"
She laughed. "You're an odd creature sometimes, India. Only you would think museums are interesting. Now," she added. "Tell me, how is Nate?"
"He's well. Will you come and visit him?"
"Perhaps." She nodded at Matt up ahead, holding the carriage door open for me. "Is Matt all right? He looks ill."
"He is," I said simply.
I studied Matt anew on the way home. Being with him every day meant I didn't always see the subtle changes in his face. But now that Catherine had pointed it out, I noticed the deeper and more numerous lines radiating from his eyes, the dark smudges under them, and the grayer pall of his skin. It was a mere two hours since he last used his watch and rested. I didn't like that short timeframe. Didn't like it in the least.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" His crossed arms and narrowed gaze told me he already knew why, and he didn't appreciate my concern.
"Like what?" I asked, attempting innocence.
"Like you pity me. Don't pity me, India."
"It's not pity, it's sympathy."
"Don't do that either."
I crossed my arms too and arched my brows. "What would you have me do, Matt? Not look at you? Not think about you? Well I can't."
One side of his mouth kicked up. "I'm glad you finally admitted it, but I wish it didn't come with a side of pity."
"Sympathy, not pity. And admitted what?"
"That you think about me." The corner of his mouth lifted too in a genuine smile. "I can even ignore the sympathetic looks if it means hearing that I do occupy your thoughts after all. I was beginning to wonder, since you're so adamant that you won't marry me. But now I can be a little more confident that you'll come around."
Heat rushed to my face despite my efforts to think cooling thoughts.
His smile widened. "You're even prettier when you blush."
"Matthew Glass, that's enough, thank you." I turned to the window, but it was futile. There was no avoiding one another in the close confines of the carriage.
"Why? Are you afraid of what else you'll reveal to me? Perhaps you might even tell me what silly notion is stopping you from accepting my proposal, since you claim it's not my health."
"How did I fall into this conversation?" I muttered to my reflection.
"You admitted that you couldn't stop looking at me or thinking about me."
"I'm quite sure that's not how it happened."
"Tell me, India." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Tell me what it is about me that you dislike in a husband."
"There's nothing. Everything. It's…complicated. I don't want to discuss it now."
"Afraid I'll change your mind?" There might have been a teasing layer to his voice, but underneath it was very serious. He was testing the waters, testing me, before he pressed too hard.
He was afraid of being rejected. Matt was as vulnerable as—well, as me.
The stunning realization hit me like a slap to the face. I hadn't expected the foundations of this confident, desirable man to shake, or that I was capable of shaking them. It should make me feel powerful, but it didn't. I felt utterly miserable.
After a few moments of staring at me, he leaned back in the seat. We didn't speak for the rest of the journey home.
The first words he spoke to me were to call me back as I headed up the staircase. He'd remained behind in the entrance hall to read the mail Bristow handed to him.
"There's a letter from my lawyer," Matt said, catching up to me to on the stairs. "It's regarding your cottage."
He handed me the letter and I read it through. "It's leased," I said. "That was fast."
"No point in waiting. So it seems you're stuck here now. I hope you can bear to be in the same house as me."
"I've managed so far."
He caught my hand. Being a step above him meant we were almost the same height, and looking him in the eye played havoc with my nerves. I couldn't quite catch my breath.
"Why are you being so cruel?" he murmured, searching my face.
I couldn't think of an answer, or of how to extricate myself without giving one. And I certainly did not want to give one.
Rescue came in the form of Miss Glass. "India!" she cried shrilly from the landing above. "India, I need you. Come at once."
Matt let my hand go only to lightly brush his fingers along mine. I could have easily moved off but didn't. "I will get my answer from you after I'm better," he said. "Yes?"
I nodded. "Just get better, Matt, and I will have any conversation you wish. Just please get better."
Chapter 3
We remained home only long enough for Matt to use his watch and rest again. Not wanting a lecture, I avoided Miss Glass by reading in my room. The afternoon had grown long by the time Matt and I arrived at New Scotland Yard, and the shadows cast by the palatial orange and white building stretched across Victoria Embankment to the Thames.