Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 99

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Shifting restlessly in her seat, Marguerite's gaze flicked to the mantle clock and a huff of exasperation escaped her. Only ten minutes had passed since the last time she checked? It felt like an eternity! The short hand remained at five, while she desperately wished for it to come near eight. The hour when Matthew descended to his kingdom on the gaming floor until near dawn, the sliver of time when she could slip away unseen.

A thrill, sharp and illicit, danced beneath her ribs at the thought. Yet time crawled by like a snail on molasses, and she felt trapped between the endless, interminable hours. Every tick of the clock echoed in the silence, grinding on her nerves as she grappled with the urge to storm straight to Jacob, to confront him, to... what?
Throwing his deceit back at him? Scolding him for toying with her affections?
A tiny, subversive voice whispered a different truth, one she ruthlessly shoved back into the shadows.

A clicking sound snapped her attention toward the door. Matthew strode in, and a prickle of irritation crawled up her spine. It was the second time today he'd entered unannounced. Did he think she was hiding something? Or was it a deliberate display of dominance, a way to mark his territory?
A more unsettling possibility crept into her mind.
Did he know about Jacob's message? Had he seen through her plan to sneak out?

Fortunately, she'd stashed the letter away in one of her bookcases. Still, her fingers dug into the soft silk of her skirt as Matthew crossed the room. His purposeful steps echoed on the marble floor, his expression unreadable.

"I have something for you," he said, his gaze fastened on her.

Not again, she screamed inwardly. She needn't further proof of Jacob's depravity.

Matthew stopped before her, reaching into his pocket and producing a velvet box. He opened it, revealing a delicate gold locket. Firelight seemed to dance on its surface, the intricate engravings catching the afternoon light like tiny constellations. Before Marguerite could ask, he flipped it open.

Marguerite's eyes widened. Beautifully framed in an intricate oval, were two miniature portraits. On one side, a younger version of herself, eyes sparkling with an innocent joy. And beside it, a handsome, serious Matthew, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

A forgotten memory; a shared afternoon spent sketching by the window with Matthew lounging on the lounge-chaise, rushed back. She'd given the drawing to him casually, a piece of paper ripped from her sketchbook, not meant as a special gift. She didn't expect him to keep it for so long... A warmth, unexpected yet undeniable, bloomed in her chest.

"Matthew, this is..." she began, her voice trailing off. Words seemed to fail her in the face of this unexpected gesture.
This wasn't just a gift, it was a tangible reminder of a connection that she almost forgot.

He chuckled softly, "I know dazzling trinkets hold little charm for you. You value things with a deeper meaning, stories woven into their threads."

Marguerite's heart ached with a bittersweet pang. Matthew had known her like nobody else. She had made the right decision to choose him, hadn't she?

The corners of his mouth lifted into a satisfied smile as he saw her expression. "Beautiful, isn't it? It's an antique piece so you'll never find another like this anywhere. There's only one piece of this in the world. Just like you, Maggie. You're one of a kind."

"Matthew, no one knows me better than you," A watery smile trembled on Marguerite's lips, only to soon fade when he replied,
"Then let this be a constant reminder," A shadow fleeting across his features, "That no one can ever know you, understand the depths of you, or dare to love you as fiercely as I do. Especially not someone who stumbled into your life a mere stranger just yesterday."