Theodosia did deflate a little at this. “Oh, so you have heard?”
Albemarle laughed. “Teddy, you cannot expect to keep gossip about engagements secret in Bath! You must know that—you better than anyone! Besides, why would you want to keep it a secret?”
She did not precisely know. After all, Miss Marnion had a tidy sum of five thousand pounds for her dowry, not overly much but sufficient to gain the attention of some well-to-do gentlemen, and Sir Edward Jarvis’s eldest boy was a catch for anyone.
Still. She would have liked to have told him herself.
Then a smile crept over her face. “You are right. The gossips of society are often far ahead of the official announcements—but then, I would be surprised if they had already caught wind of the marriage of the Marquess of Gloucester.”
Albemarle’s eyes widened. “No! Even I heard the tittle-tattle about the old Marquess—he was expected to announce his engagement with that Miss Dunder, was he not?”
“Miss Darby,” corrected Theodosia with a widening smile. “Yes, he was. It all fell apart, of course. Two people can rarely be relied upon to manage their own engagements. It just isn’t possible for amateurs.”
He laughed. “I do not know how you do it. So they are engaged, then?”
She should not have relished the words—she should have been more humble, less excited to spread more gossip about town.
But really, today had been a triumph.
“Oh, no,” she said airily. “Too much water under that bridge, I am afraid. No, I will have two engagement announcements to write tomorrow morning. The Marquess of Gloucester to a Miss Frances Lloyd, and Miss Rebecca Darby to…the Marquess of Exeter. Monty’s brother.”
Her pronouncement was well gratified, as Albemarle’s mouth fell open as he leaned forward. “The Marquess to Miss Lloyd—she who was engaged to the Duke of Orrinshire?”
“That was almost a failure of mine, you know,” Theodosia admitted. She would never have owned it to another soul, but she knew she could trust Albemarle. “It had fallen apart quite spectacularly—or at least, it would have done if I had not already selected Miss Priscilla Seton as an alternative. Really, they were fortunate to have me there.”
“And the Marquess of Exeter,” mused Albemarle. “You know, I do not think I know him.”
“Very few recognize his name, certainly, but he comes from a good family,” teased Theodosia. “Would you be impressed if I told you he was the younger brother of the Duke of Devonshire?”
He shook his head, smile widening. “Nothing would surprise me about your ability to form the very best engagements for your clients.”
To be sure, Theodosia was the best. There was no one else like her in society who could make matches between what felt like the impossible people—and yet…
Engagements, marriages, matches. These topics felt strange to discuss together when their own seemed so close to the surface.
“Well, yes, it is my job,” she said, a little discomfited, stomach squirming.
The earl leaned back in his seat and examined her closely. “And, so, Miss Theodosia Ashbrooke orchestrates yet another engagement.”
She nodded.
“Blast it all,” he exploded, unable to hold in his thoughts any longer. “And what about ours? Can we announce it? Can it be the third you write tomorrow morning to send off to those damned newspapers that need to hear all the latest goings-on?”
Theodosia opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Let’s announce it,” he said warmly, his voice lowering. “Let’s give those gossips something to talk about.”
She swallowed. Never before this moment had she known what her answer was to be. She had wondered, swung like a pendulum between a definitive decision that she would reject him and absolute certainty that she would become the Countess of Lenskeyn.
But only now did she realize it hardly mattered what she thought. Her heart had belonged to him for a while now.
She was his, and he would be hers. But she would not give him the satisfaction of surety. Not yet.
“That is a fascinating question,” she said lightly, “and one that I simply cannot consider on an empty stomach. Perhaps, after dinner, I will have an answer for you.”
“Christ and all the saints in his heaven!” Albemarle rose, strode across the room, and grabbed her hand, pulling her upward.
“What are you—Albemarle, where are we going?” Theodosia protested as he pulled her toward the door to the hallway.”
“Dinner,” he growled. “The sooner we have it, the sooner I have you.”
Chapter Twelve
They had eaten, at least Albemarle was sure they had, for his stomach felt full, and there were a few crumbs on his napkin.
What they had eaten, exactly, he could not say. A servant had brought plates in. Plates had emptied and had been taken away.
It could have been dry biscuits for all he knew. All he could do was look at Teddy.
Theodosia Ashbrooke. She would be Teddy for the rest of his life now; he could not see her any other way.
And what a view. Stunningly beautiful, especially in the warm glow of the candlelight. A true delight to be with, witty in her conversation, never cruel when sharing gossip, and every moment, he was captivated.
She was all the sustenance he needed. If he were not careful, he could waste away just looking at her. She threw back her head and laughed as he regaled her with tales from the ship that had brought him over the Channel.
“No, really? The captain surely—”
“The captain was just as surprised as we all were,” Albemarle said triumphantly. “No, I promise on my honor as a gentleman…”
The minutes slipped by, marked only by the gentle chimes of a carriage clock on the sideboard. Albemarle had never felt so untethered from time like this. He had wasted time, lost time, found time….
But time with Teddy stood still. He wanted the hands of that tiny golden clock to be stopped so this evening never ended. Because when it did, he would have to make a choice—or more importantly, she would.
By God, he hoped she chose what would make them both happy.
“You are looking at me oddly.”
“My apologies,” he said smoothly. “I was just…well. I could not stop looking at you.”
She smiled, revealing she understood completely.
“Tell me, Teddy,” he said. “How is it possible you do not see how beautiful you are?”
Now her cheeks colored, and something dark and hungry stirred within him. If only he asked the real question dancing across his mind. She clearly had no idea how she tempted him—would tempt any man who had half a brain and just a little eyesight.
Teddy Ashbrooke was a vision, and he wanted to do wonderful things to her, but first, she would have to ask for them. He was not one of those cads who forced a lady past the lines she set.
No, if she wanted untold pleasure from him, she would have to beg for it.
“Beautiful? You flatterer, you should be keeping those charms for the ladies,” she said, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin in a transparent attempt to hide her face.
Albemarle pushed back his chair. “You are a lady, too. Why should I not notice how beautiful you are and not tell you so?”
Teddy shook her head. “Very pretty words, Albemarle. Do not worry, I like them well enough, even if I cannot bring myself to believe them.”
“You really don’t know, do you?” he mused.
By God, he could not wait much longer. Surely she would not be so cruel to invite him here with no intention of making him happy—the happiest man who ever lived.
His fingers itched to reach out and touch her.
Albemarle swallowed. Damn and blast it, but she was utterly perfect. It was a miracle he had managed to fight off temptation this long.
“Ah, the cheese,” Teddy said appreciatively as the door opened once again, and a servant came in with a tray. “My favorite part of the meal.”
A
lbemarle raised an eyebrow as the servant placed it on the table and curtseyed her way out of the room. “The port and cheese? I would not have expected to find a lady in polite society that would know much about it. Don’t the ladies leave at this point?”
Teddy grinned as she leaned forward to cut herself a piece of Wensleydale. “I suppose ladies usually do, but I find my love of cheese sometimes overwhelms my adherence to society’s rules.”
She popped it in her mouth. Albemarle found himself staring at her lips.
“Besides,” she continued with a little chuckle, “if you do not mind the impertinence, I will stay here and keep you company.”
“I would be bereft without you.”
It was honestly spoken, but Teddy rolled her eyes.
“You still do not believe me?” he asked quietly.
Teddy finished her mouthful of cheese. Then she replied in the same low tone. “It is…it is not that I do not believe you. I know you would not lie. It is just that…well. This entire thing does not feel real. You. Me. You wanting me.”
Now they were finally getting somewhere. “I am determined to have you.”
“Yet, just because you want something, that does not mean you will get it,” she quipped. “You may be an earl, but that does not mean you are handed what you want on a silver plate.”
“I would like you on a silver plate,” he growled, smiling mischievously. “Bloody hell, Teddy, how can I prove it to you? How can I describe what you do to me—what you are doing right now?”
His whole body tensed with desire, and Albemarle poured himself some port. The sweet burning liquid seared his throat.
“You ask much of me,” she said.
“I ask you to marry me!” Albemarle protested. “You’ll be a countess! Lounging around, eating delicious food, parties, nice gowns—”
“You think that is sufficient to sway me?”
Her words cut across him, and he fell silent. How was it possible that she could immediately see into the heart of him, see what he was attempting to?
“I do not deserve you,” he said quietly after taking another draught of port, “but I think if you managed to step away from your matchmaker mindset for one minute, you might start to see the man before you. And he is desperate for your answer.”
She looked him up and down. “You do not appear to be desperate.”
Albemarle groaned. How could he take this for one more second? “What do I have to do to show you how I feel? Write you damned poetry?”
“My goodness,” she said, cutting herself another piece of cheese. “That would be a good start.”
Well, he had not expected his memorizing skills to ever actually come in useful, but…
Without taking his eyes from her, he recited:
“She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies…”
Teddy had not moved, and her gaze had not left his. She leaned forward as though drawn to him while he recited a poem he had memorized long ago from his favorite poet, Lord Byron. He had hoped one day to woo a woman with it.
There was silence after the last word of the poem echoed around the small room. Teddy appeared to be a little breathless.
“I…” She swallowed and tried again. “That was beautiful.”
“And ’tis merely a snapshot of how I feel about you,” he said eagerly. “Do you understand now? How I have felt about you for days—nay, weeks!”
She nodded. Words seemed to have failed her for the first time in their acquaintance.
“Now, do not get me wrong,” he continued with a wry smile. “They may not have been my words, originally—”
She laughed. “Do not concern yourself, your lordship. I know Byron when I hear him.”
“I will never be able to pull the wool over your eyes, will I?”
“I hope not. I hope you will never need to.”
Once again, silence fell. Albemarle could feel the pressure of it. This evening was important. He already knew it was one he would never forget—the question was, how would it end?
Eventually he could wait no longer. “I am in earnest. Marry me.”
He almost gasped at the intensity of her look. “Let us go to the drawing room,” she said.
They both rose, Albemarle’s fingers tingling just at the thought of being closer to her. As she passed him to reach the door, he almost grabbed her and pulled her into his arms for the first frantic kiss of the evening—but he managed to hold back.
It was when they were in the hallway that she spoke softly, “I might tell you my decision.”
He could stand it no longer, had waited, had desperately wanted what was forbidden, but this was too much.
He knew she wanted him, and she thought she had all the power by putting off the inevitable answer to his question of matrimony.
Patience utterly gone, Albemarle pulled Teddy back, making her gasp, and pinned her against the hallway wall.
“Might?” he whispered, looking deep into her blue eyes. “Let me give you some incentive.”
His kiss was passionate, fierce, like a drowning man who had finally reached the shore. If she had resisted—pushed back, perhaps, or attempted to squirm away—he would have desisted at once. He was no cad to force his affections where they were not wanted.
But they were certainly wanted. Teddy melted into his arms, returning his kisses almost more fiercely than he worshiped her.
All thought of discovery disappeared from his mind. They were the only two people in the world. They could do what they liked here, be authentic because this was the best thing he had ever done.
This was right. If only he could make her see, they were perfect for each other.
The thought made him pull away, and he looked down at her.
“W-What?” she managed to breathe. “Why have we stopped?”
Albemarle grinned wickedly. Despite all his finer thoughts, he would need to ensure the house was empty before he proceeded.
“Your maid,” he whispered. “Your cook, any other servants. Where are they?”
Teddy stared uncomprehendingly. “You cannot possibly want anything right—”
“When do they leave, or do they live in?”
Unsure why he asked the question, she tilted her head to one side before answering. “They live out. I only have Amy Robins and a cook, and both have gone home. Why?”
Excitement soared. “Because I am going to show you exactly what you are missing by refusing to answer me, and I want no interruptions.”
Slowly, he lowered his hand down her body, almost groaning aloud at the way her breasts heaved as he touched them until he reached her skirts. Inch by inch, he gathered them up in one hand, revealing her ankles, calves, knees…
“Wh-What are you doing?”
“You can tell me to stop at any time,” he said quietly. “I will not force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. But you will enjoy this, I think. If you do not, then we can stop. Trust me.”
His words came out as a whisper. He could barely find the strength to speak, his whole body shaking. She was so beautiful, and he wanted her badly.
She hesitated, examining his face as though attempting to find falsehood in his eyes. Then she nodded and lifted her face to be kissed.
Albemarle lowered his mouth to hers as he moved his fingers underneath her skirts. His fingers gently brushed her thighs, and she gasped in his mouth.
He immediately stopped and broke the kiss. He did not need to speak, for she knew what he was waiting for.
“I-I…” Teddy stumbled for words. “I want you to touch me. Please.”
It was all the invitation he needed. Without rushing, gently caressing and causing shivers to ripple through her body, Albemarle kissed her neck as he moved to her secret place. As slowly as he could manage, he stroked her soft opening.
“Oh!”
Stopping her cry with another kiss and trying to ignore his stiffening manhood, his fingers started to tease, caress, and then finally to
enter that wet, soft place that was begging for his touch.
She was so warm, so ready for him! It took every ounce of self-control not to just unbutton his breeches and thrust into her, right against the damn wall.
“You are so beautiful,” he muttered. “So very beautiful, Teddy…”
“Oh, yes,” was all she could murmur, and as he kissed that soft spot just below her ear and found that delicate nub with his fingers, she shivered. “Albemarle!”
That was what pushed him over the edge. Now his fingers moved more purposefully.
He kissed her wildly, his other hand at her waist, ensuring she could not fall. As he brought her to climax, she sobbed his name, and he wondered how he would ever live without her.
She pulsed around his fingers, and he felt the ripples of pleasure moving through her until she sagged against the wall. Then she nestled into him.
“Oh, Albemarle,” she spoke softly. “That was…”
His heart raced. “I love you.”
Teddy smiled as though she had expected those words all along. “And I will marry you.”
Such joy overwhelmed him; it was almost impossible to know what he was doing. He was kissing her again, his hands returning under her skirts and cupping her buttocks, loving that feeling of flesh—and she was hardly idle. Her fingers, unschooled but acting on instinct, attempted to undo his shirt buttons, anything to get closer to him.
“Wait, wait, Teddy,” he panted, and they both ceased their frantic movements.
She looked a little abashed, as though she had been reprimanded. “You…you want me to stop?”
“Far from it. But not here.”
Without waiting for a response, he swept her up in his arms and started walking upstairs.
“Second on the right,” she whispered, knowing where he was taking her.
When close enough, she opened the door to her bedchamber, and Albemarle walked through it. The room was not large, with most of the space taken up by one piece of furniture.
Her bed.
With absolutely no ceremony, he placed her onto the mattress and quickly joined her, kissing her passionately as he drew her into his arms.
This was everything—she was perfection—this was the rest of his life! He never needed anything else; as long as he had her, he would feel alive.
Always the Matchmaker (Never the Bride Book 8) Page 13
