Page 4 of To Steal a Kiss

Besides which, Nate needed a wife.

A smile curved over her mouth at the idea of Nate and Alice. Nate wouldn’t see it. Not at first. She might be quite mistaken, of course, but….

Something told Matilda that Alice had hidden depths. Now and then she saw a spark of something in the girl’s eyes, something hot and fierce like that red hair she always scraped back in such an unbecoming and childish style. Alice just needed the courage to let that spark flame like her fiery locks.

A handsome fellow like Matilda’s brother, well… maybe he could provide the tinder? Though Nate would die before he admitted it, his current lifestyle was never one he’d longed for. Before their world had crumbled, Matilda had known that Nate would marry a nice girl and settle down and have a family. He was suited for it and, unlike many of his friends, had never made a show of trying to evade his fate. He’d welcomed it.

Then their father had squandered their fortune and their futures, and everything had changed. Nate had changed. He’d become harder, colder, his feelings forced down into some dark place where they’d not trouble him. Not obviously, at least. He’d become the epitome of the handsome young scoundrel, and many young men tried their best to emulate his nonchalant grace and devil may care attitude. Yet, Matilda felt certain the Nate she’d once known was still there, still longing for a home, for a wife and family. If only he’d acknowledge it.

Such a life would be a deal better for him than his present lifestyle, that was for certain. Besides, she’d never tried her hand at match making before and, if she was to ensure her friends were all suitably settled, she may as well begin with her brother. Her own life would hold no such romance, after all, so the least she could do was indulge herself in manoeuvring others into their happy ever afters.

Matilda looked up as the man himself entered the room.

“Evening, Tilda.” He greeted her with a flash of a crooked grin before he took himself off to the decanter that had been left ready for him.

“For heaven’s sake, Nate,” she said with a sigh of reproach. “Can’t you get in the door before pouring a drink?”

“I’m in!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the room about him. “Or am I mistaken, is this the garden? It is a bit chilly.”

He nodded at the open window and Matilda rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s stifling in here, as well you know. The whole city is stifling,” she added with a sigh, waving a delicate hand-painted fan back and forth with more vigour than her usual understated style would allow. It was only her brother, after all. Matilda stared about the fashionable room—with not a thing out of place, no sign of wear or age—and a pang of longing for their childhood home in the country stabbed at her heart. She forced it down. No point in crying about that. The place had long been sold to cover their father’s debts.

“Ah, well, that explains my raging thirst,” her brother replied, raising the glass to her and taking a large swallow. With a sigh of satisfaction, he crossed the room to stand beside her at the window and dutifully kissed her cheek. “What’s ailing you, sis?” he asked, casting a knowing eye over her. He knew her too well.

Matilda gave a huff of annoyance she wasn’t really feeling. That was the trouble with Nate. It was so hard to be cross with him. Tall and broad and blond, with twinkling blue eyes, he cut a dashing figure. Add to that an abundance of charm and a devilish smile, and he could have most women eating out of his hand in no time. Matilda was immune to charm of that nature, being his sister and knowing all his worst traits, but still, it was never easy to scold him when he was such a lamb.

“You drink too much, you don’t sleep enough, and you keep bad company,” she said, folding her arms and feeling like the worst sort of nag, but someone had to say it.

“Ah, the life of a gaming club proprietor,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Matilda sighed and shook her head. There was no point in remonstrating. It made no difference, and he had a point. How else was he supposed to live, under the circumstances? That meant circumstances needed to change before he could, which brought her back to the point in hand.

“Nate, I want you to do something for me.”

It was always best to attack Nate head on. He was too straightforward for subtlety and despised subterfuge.

“Of course, Tilda. Name it,” he said, sitting himself down by the empty hearth. He frowned at the fireplace. “It never feels the same with no fire burning, does it? Not half so welcoming.”

Matilda rolled her eyes. “It’s the middle of June,” she pointed out, despite having observed the same thing herself.

“What do you need then?” he asked, returning to the conversation. “A new frock? Hats? Or is it decorating? Surely you’ve done every room in the house by now? Twice, in fact.”

Matilda felt a twinge of guilt over that debacle but retreated into irritation, knowing he was baiting her. “You know very well I only did one room twice, and that was because the colour of those curtains was not what I ordered. I had to redecorate the entire room to match. It was most aggravating.”

Nate made a mild sound which might have been amusement, or possibly incredulity. Matilda ignored it.

“Very well. Not frocks or jewels or decorating. A horse?” he suggested.

“Oh, stop it, Nate. I’m serious; I want to talk to you.” She settled herself down in the chair opposite him as he pursed his lips.

“Horses are serious business, Tilda,” he said, a touch reprovingly. “Don’t you even think about buying one before I’ve looked it over. Can’t have someone selling you a miserable rip. I’ve got a reputation to think of.”

“The less said about your reputation, the better,” Matilda said, immediately regretting the tartness of her voice as guilt flashed in his expression. She sighed. “I don’t want you to buy me anything, Nate. I just need you to do something for me. It will only take a moment of your time, but it would mean a great deal to me.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed and he studied her, turning the glass in his hands back and forth.

“A favour, then,” he said, and she could hear the suspicion behind the observation.