I do not know what to say, how to tempt you. If you had a price, I would pay it. If you desired particular words, I would say them. I would be anything you want, Jane. Just come back. Please come back.

- Matthew in a letter to Jane.

As I said, you have mistaken me for another. London is full of drab little peahens, sir. Now, then, I’m leaving,” she said in a huff.

“To change?” he asked, unable to stop from goading her.

“To write a poem for my toast,” she snapped. “And you may suffer, for I will not help you with yours.”

“No need, darling,” Matthew drawled, his words intending to push her away.
“I doubt you know a suitable word that will rhyme with fuck. ”

“Stuck,” she said, turning to face him. “For two days, my lord. We are stuck with one another. Let us make the best of it.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“By giving each other wide berth. We will not stand together, we will not talk to one another and we will most certainly not look at one another.”

“No problem from this quarter.”

“Good. You may be assured that it will be no difficulty for me, either.”

-Matthew and Jane

Matthew,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “How can I save you?

Pressing his forehead to the cool glass, he held her gaze, her palm, his eyes pleading with her. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.

Matty,” Jane whispered, “what are you thinking?”
He smiled, kissed her navel before glancing up at her. “Barbaric thoughts.”
“You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
He laughed and slid up the length of her body. “I am. It’s such a powerful
visual to know that my seed is responsible for the life within you and the
incredibly arousing changes in your body.
“And, I, of course, have nothing to do with it?”
“Jane,” he whispered, “let me have my moment of male glory.

Christ, he was empty, just a shell of himself. He had nothing to give, not even his seed.