Michael POV

The fire was in the hearth, but the air between us was hotter than fire. Matilda stood near the window, with stiff shoulders, and a white face, due to the humiliation of the morning. I stood and looked, and thought what to say. She was breaking, but not broken. Not yet.

It was time she realized what I needed of her.

“Matilda,” I said at last, and broke the silence with my voice.

She swung round with her red rimmed eyes still keen. "What?"

I stood up, and each ...