Read Online The Christmas Spirit by Patricia Wynn - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Wynn
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not love. It was awe."
A glint of respect lit his eyes. "You understand the situation perfectly, which in itself is curious. How a lady of your age, who acts for all the world as if she's never ridden in a carriage before, can be so wise is more than a bit mysterious."
"I wasn't acting as if I'd never been in a carriage before-- Was I?"
Matthew felt a laugh burst from him. Her indignation, followed so closely by doubt, enchanted him. "Forgive me," he said, with exaggerated politeness. "I must have been gravely mistaken."
But the smile that had visited his lips lingered in his chest. It felt strange after so many months of bitterness, but he could almost feel the strength of his amusement in his blood. Never before had he met a female with so many contradictions, all delightful.
Faye was daintily built and as a fresh of face as a wood nymph, yet she showed the same confidence in her cause as a battle-hardened general. She could not be more feminine or graceful, yet she acted with the sweeping freedom of a man. If she had one fault, it would appear to be conceit, for he'd often heard a certain smugness in her tone. Yet, her version of conceit had none of the viciousness displayed by petty women. It seemed so much a part of her, he could not even fault her for a weakness he usually despised.
But--Matthew felt the pain from old wounds urging him to caution--he did not really know her or know who she was. She'd appeared on his doorstep without so much as a letter of introduction, and had gained entry with the use of artifice. Even today, there had been times when he had sensed she was not being truthful. She plainly would have preferred to evade his questions, and her nervous glances had given her away more surely than her otherwise polished answers.
Her entire appearance and her performance were so perfect, in fact, as to seem ephemeral. Where her charm and her rare beauty might have tempted him to pursue her, were he a healthy man with glowing prospects, there was something about her very perfection that gave him pause. Strangely, it was those very moments of doubt and unease that had made her more real and all the more appealing.
He did not want to expose himself to a woman without principle again. Faye might still be a fortune-hunter. He was not a wealthy man, but his modest estate was enough to maintain him in a certain comfort for the rest of his life. He was not such a fool that he did not perceive how attractive such a life would be to a woman who needed it.
He shook himself from these dangerous musings, asking abruptly, "Why did you call on me, Faye?"
She looked startled. "I have already told you, and now shown you, that our charity was in need--"
"No, you misunderstood me. I was asking, why me?"
Her eyes widened. Where once he had thought them green, they now appeared a deep, brooding violet. But after he pressed his eyes closed and felt fatigue sweeping suddenly through him, he discovered they were green again. His fever must be returning.
Fighting to keep this knowledge from her, ashamed to be betrayed by his own weakness, he sat as still as possible. But a softening of her face told him she had noticed that all was not well.
"I had hoped," she began, "to persuade you to approach your friends on behalf of my society."
"Friends?" Matthew knew that harshness had sprung into his voice. "Whomever can you mean?"
Faye blinked. "The African Association? Are they not the group that sent you on your expedition? I had hoped they would take a particular interest in our almshouse."
Matthew fought the gripping fury that name always evoked, leaving shakiness in its wake. At once, he knew he had overtaxed his ravaged body today.
"I am afraid," he said, with a terrible stillness, "you have been grossly deceived. I have lost whatever influence I once wielded with that group."
Faye's eyes grew round with dismay. He could almost see her cringing from the despair on his face. Matthew averted his glance, pinching his
A glint of respect lit his eyes. "You understand the situation perfectly, which in itself is curious. How a lady of your age, who acts for all the world as if she's never ridden in a carriage before, can be so wise is more than a bit mysterious."
"I wasn't acting as if I'd never been in a carriage before-- Was I?"
Matthew felt a laugh burst from him. Her indignation, followed so closely by doubt, enchanted him. "Forgive me," he said, with exaggerated politeness. "I must have been gravely mistaken."
But the smile that had visited his lips lingered in his chest. It felt strange after so many months of bitterness, but he could almost feel the strength of his amusement in his blood. Never before had he met a female with so many contradictions, all delightful.
Faye was daintily built and as a fresh of face as a wood nymph, yet she showed the same confidence in her cause as a battle-hardened general. She could not be more feminine or graceful, yet she acted with the sweeping freedom of a man. If she had one fault, it would appear to be conceit, for he'd often heard a certain smugness in her tone. Yet, her version of conceit had none of the viciousness displayed by petty women. It seemed so much a part of her, he could not even fault her for a weakness he usually despised.
But--Matthew felt the pain from old wounds urging him to caution--he did not really know her or know who she was. She'd appeared on his doorstep without so much as a letter of introduction, and had gained entry with the use of artifice. Even today, there had been times when he had sensed she was not being truthful. She plainly would have preferred to evade his questions, and her nervous glances had given her away more surely than her otherwise polished answers.
Her entire appearance and her performance were so perfect, in fact, as to seem ephemeral. Where her charm and her rare beauty might have tempted him to pursue her, were he a healthy man with glowing prospects, there was something about her very perfection that gave him pause. Strangely, it was those very moments of doubt and unease that had made her more real and all the more appealing.
He did not want to expose himself to a woman without principle again. Faye might still be a fortune-hunter. He was not a wealthy man, but his modest estate was enough to maintain him in a certain comfort for the rest of his life. He was not such a fool that he did not perceive how attractive such a life would be to a woman who needed it.
He shook himself from these dangerous musings, asking abruptly, "Why did you call on me, Faye?"
She looked startled. "I have already told you, and now shown you, that our charity was in need--"
"No, you misunderstood me. I was asking, why me?"
Her eyes widened. Where once he had thought them green, they now appeared a deep, brooding violet. But after he pressed his eyes closed and felt fatigue sweeping suddenly through him, he discovered they were green again. His fever must be returning.
Fighting to keep this knowledge from her, ashamed to be betrayed by his own weakness, he sat as still as possible. But a softening of her face told him she had noticed that all was not well.
"I had hoped," she began, "to persuade you to approach your friends on behalf of my society."
"Friends?" Matthew knew that harshness had sprung into his voice. "Whomever can you mean?"
Faye blinked. "The African Association? Are they not the group that sent you on your expedition? I had hoped they would take a particular interest in our almshouse."
Matthew fought the gripping fury that name always evoked, leaving shakiness in its wake. At once, he knew he had overtaxed his ravaged body today.
"I am afraid," he said, with a terrible stillness, "you have been grossly deceived. I have lost whatever influence I once wielded with that group."
Faye's eyes grew round with dismay. He could almost see her cringing from the despair on his face. Matthew averted his glance, pinching his
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