Always the Matchmaker (Never the Bride Book 8)

by Emily E K Murdoch

  “I love you,” she murmured as he kissed down her neck and toward her breasts, almost free as he pulled at the ties of her gown. “I wanted to tell you before, but—”

  “Not as much as I love you,” he said intoxicated. “I love you more than life itself, Teddy, and I will always love you. I want to show you—”

  Finally, his fingers were able to accomplish what he could not have done downstairs with her pinned up against the wall, and he pulled down her gown and then completely away, dropping it onto the floor.

  He gazed at her. She was not even wearing an underslip. He had thought her beautiful before, but how could he ever countenance her wearing a gown again? She was divine, every inch of her made to perfection.

  She misunderstood his groan, however. Pinking cheeks, she tried to pull at a blanket to cover herself.

  “No,” he said quickly. “No, Teddy…you are so perfect.”

  She had a nervous smile. “You…are in earnest?”

  Albemarle swallowed. If he was not careful, he was going to come just looking at her, from the mere frustration of wanting her. He nodded.

  “Now… you,” she said a little more boldly.

  He moved to the side of the bed, a little concerned his naked form would frighten her. It had certainly been the reaction of a few ladies in the past, those far too innocent of the world.

  But Teddy did not shy away. True, he could see she was a little surprised by his manhood already standing at attention, but she quickly moved on the bed to invite him back.

  Albemarle shuddered as he lay beside her. He wanted to thrust into her immediately but knew he could not. This had to be the most memorable moment she ever experienced, and for that, she needed more pleasure first.

  She moved willingly into his arms, and as he caressed her, his fingers slowly coaxed another climax from her. She was so passionate that he almost came in response.

  Cradling her in his arms, he whispered, “Teddy, are…are you sure about this? Are you happy to give me everything? There is no turning back once we have done this.”

  In response, she kissed him on the mouth, boldly teasing his lips open until she met his tongue.

  Then she pulled away, her eyes blazing, “I do not want to turn back. I want to marry you. I will be your wife. Give me…give me everything. I want you, Albie.”

  They were the words he needed to hear. Urging her back, he kissed her as he gently entered her. As she gasped, he stopped, his free hand fondling her breasts.

  “Is…is this it?” she asked. “Have we made love?”

  Albemarle was careful not to laugh. How could she know?

  “Nothing close to the end yet.”

  Slowly, he pulled almost out of her and then slid back in.

  She was so warm, so wet, so desperate for him. She started to moan as the rhythm increased, and then suddenly, she was writhing underneath him, pulsing around his manhood, and he could hardly wait after so much wanting.

  “Albie!”

  Her shout was what did it. Thrusting into her harder and faster than before, he gave up trying to hold back and exploded, crying out a mixture of oaths and her name as he collapsed.

  Teddy held him in her arms as he lay there, weak—weak for her.

  Well, that was it. She had ruined him. He could never be with another woman again, never touch a woman again like this. It had to be her.

  Concerned his fierce craving had hurt her, he rolled onto his back and pulled her closer.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  “Good,” she said with a sigh. “Because I love you.”

  Her skin was warm against his, still tingling from their lovemaking.

  “No more matchmaking.”

  Teddy chuckled and nestled into him. “No, not for you, at any rate.”

  He had to laugh at that. “What? No countess of mine is going to work! The Countess of Lenskeyn, with a job?”

  Her words were drowsy now. “That is what you think…”

  Albemarle glanced down and saw her eyelashes flutter as sleep came to claim her. He tightened his grip around her. His woman. His future wife. The Countess of Lenskeyn.

  “I really do love you, you know,” he whispered.

  He was not sure what made him tell her again. Some part of him desperate to ensure she knew precisely how precious she was.

  It did not matter, for she had already fallen asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The instant her eyes opened, Theodosia knew everything had changed.

  The memories of last night instantly percolated through her mind.

  “I really do love you, you know.”

  A smile drifted across her face. Every inch of her felt different, somehow. She could not have put it into words if someone had asked her. Every inch that had been touched by Albie tingled. He had teased from her body more pleasure than she had thought possible, and just when she had felt she could not take any more…

  “Teddy, are…are you sure about this? You are happy to give me everything? There is no turning back once we have done this.”

  Her smile broadened. She was still naked, having fallen asleep in his arms. Now her sheets were tangled around her body. It was a strange feeling.

  Sunlight was drifting lazily through the gap in her curtains. It was late, far later than when she usually awoke.

  She would never look at the world in the same way. How could she? That innocence was gone. She had given it to him willingly, almost begged him to take it as her body started to awaken to the possibilities.

  Experienced eyes.

  She was engaged to be married—the matchmaker to the rich and noble.

  It was wild! It was madness! She would be a countess.

  The thought was ridiculous. If a lady had come to her with such hopes, Theodosia would have chided her gently for having such unrealistic expectations. She matched person to person, with only a little thought to title and wealth.

  Albemarle Howard. He was rude, arrogant, devastatingly charming, yes. But he was also hers, all hers. He was the sort of gentleman she could never have articulated but had always wanted. Even after that disaster with…

  Theodosia pushed the thought aside. She was not going to dwell on the past—certainly not that part of her past. She was leaving sadness behind where it belonged as she stepped into the happiest part of her life.

  The rest of her life.

  After spending so many years dedicated to the happiness of others, finding much satisfaction with seeing the joy on their faces, perhaps it was time to think of her own marriage.

  More than that. Her own success.

  After so much sadness, after it all going so wrong before in a way she could never have predicted, it was time something went right for her.

  The last five years had been dedicated to helping others. She had so few disasters in her matches, her keen eye spotting who would make the other truly content.

  How many weddings had she attended that were due to her clever work and her delicate introductions? How many engagements had almost faltered at the final hurdle, rescued by her silent intrusions?

  There were even a few vicars, Lord help them, who had lost rings. Theodosia had made it a rule ever since that debacle at the Romeril wedding—which was why the mother-of-the-groom, Lady Romeril, had never quite forgiven her—that she would always carry a set of wedding rings of various sizes around with her during wedding season. They had so far been useful three times.

  She smiled. You could almost call her the fairy godmother of marriages for society, and she had acted carefully and with dedication for years.

  Now it was time for her to have her own happy ending.

  As these thoughts overwhelmed her, whirling through her mind like autumn leaves in a gust, it was another few minutes before she realized that something was wrong.

  The other side of her bed was empty.

  Albemarle had gone.

  A prickle of fear rushed through her heart. Why would he leave—and without say
ing goodbye? She had expected to be woken by him, and yet, here she was, the sun up, and he had left.

  Theodosia rose from her bed and peeked out through the curtains. In these autumn days, it must be about eight o’clock in the morning. She was usually awake and dressed by this time, but then—and her cheeks colored at the delicious thought—she had been kept up far later than expected.

  It would make sense, she supposed with a sinking heart, that he would leave early so others did not see him. The last thing she needed was wild speculation about her and a gentleman leaving her rooms in the early hours of the morning.

  A matchmaker needed to keep her reputation or else she would lose her entire business.

  She pulled on her dressing gown. It would be different when they were married. They would have their own home, their own bedchamber. They would hide from no one that they had spent the night making love.

  Her heart softened. To think, they would have that sort of experience every night.

  A shiver rushed through her body as she crossed the room with a purpose. Her stomach was starting to protest. As she opened the door to the dining room, all she expected to find was some cold breakfast.

  She did not expect to see Albemarle Howard using a dining chair to help pull on his boots.

  “Albie!”

  She could not help but cry out his name in relief. The happiness that swept through her as she beheld him proved last night had not been some wild dream.

  As she rushed over to embrace him, Albemarle groaned. “Careful, Teddy!”

  She released him immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Not in the slightest.” He grinned, pulling on his other boot and standing up straight. “But if you touch me like that again, I will be taking you back upstairs for something I should really not be doing to my fiancée.”

  Theodosia smiled. It was wonderful to speak like this, as lovers, as people who would soon call each other husband and wife. “Oh, I see. And…and would that be the end of the world?”

  Albie laughed, his hair falling over his eyes. “Well, no, but I would like to get a few things done today, and if you tempt me up to that bedchamber like the vixen you are, I shall get none of it completed. After all, we will be wed in two weeks.”

  For a moment, she was unsure whether she had heard him correctly. “Two—two weeks?”

  He grinned as he stepped toward her, taking her hands in his own. “Theodosia Ashbrooke, by profession, you spend all day meeting with eligible bachelors. You think I want another gentleman taking you from me?”

  His words were so ridiculous she could not help but laugh. “I think ’tis far more likely your head will be turned by another woman!”

  He kissed her then, and she pulled him closer, desperate for him, her hands stroking the nape of his neck. It was a good few minutes before they released each other, which was only because they ran out of air.

  “No fear—no, Teddy, I am serious. No more taking on new clients until we are married.”

  Still in his arms, Theodosia smiled mischievously. “You do not trust me.”

  He was not offended—in fact, he seemed entertained. “I do not trust myself. I am easily jealous, another fault you have yet to learn about me. The last thing I want is to be pulled up in front of the magistrate on a charge of assault.”

  She knew he was jesting, but still, it was rather wonderful to feel so desired. He wanted her so badly he would prevent anyone from touching her. It was a heady idea.

  “No magistrate would ever convict you,” she said aloud. Was it possible to be this full of love and happiness?

  “Probably not. Especially not the magistrate where I live, which is where I would demand to be tried.”

  “Who is that?” she said, finally releasing him so he could pull on his coat.

  “Why, me, of course.”

  She kissed him again when they reached the hallway, and he groaned as he pressed her against the wall. Wild thoughts shot through Theodosia’s mind, of him pulling her into his arms again, taking her upstairs, and teaching her more ways that her body could give and receive the height of pleasure.

  “Do you have to go?” she whispered as her hands moved nervously toward his manhood, which she immediately felt was hard. “Stay with me. Love me.”

  “Christ alive, Teddy,” he moaned in her ear between kisses down her neck and toward her heaving breasts. “I want to—you do not know how badly you are tempting me!”

  She laughed, fingers scrabbling for the buttons of his breeches. There was an ache growing inside her, an ache she recognized because of what he taught her.

  “No—no, I mean it!” With a wrench, Albie released her and stepped back, his eyes full of desire but his hands firmly behind his back. “No, Teddy, I really must try to have some element of self-control when I am around you! If only for two weeks.”

  Theodosia smiled. She was starting to understand this strange power she had over him, and feeling more brazen than she had ever been in her life, and she pouted and leaned forward to allow her breasts to show.

  “Really?” she breathed, not breaking eye contact. “Are you sure you cannot…warm me up before you go?”

  There was a moment of electricity between them. She could almost see the sparks.

  “Damn you, you tease.”

  In an instant, one of his hands held both of hers, pinning them above her head. She gasped as his other hand quickly moved under her skirts as his teeth raked past her breast, teasing at her nipple through her gown.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered, trying to keep quiet as she knew her servants were in the building.

  “Be quiet,” Albie growled as his fingers entered her. “You will do what you are told.”

  Stopping up his mouth with a ravishing kiss, Theodosia abandoned herself to the pleasure, hips bucking against his wild and rhythmic fingers, and her mouth welcoming him in as he brought her closer, and closer, and—

  “Albie!” she tried to moan, but her mouth was utterly captured by his.

  He released her and fell against the opposite wall. Theodosia was unsure how she was standing, her whole body desperate to be held close to him.

  She panted, “That—that was…”

  “I know, and damn it, I wish my fingers had been my cock,” he murmured, eyes darting down the corridor to ensure they had not been spotted. “Damn you for being so beautiful, so sweet, so delicious, Teddy. Two weeks, mark you. Two weeks, and I will have you crying out my name every hour of the day.”

  With that, he threw open the front door and slammed it behind him.

  Theodosia leaned against the wall and was a little surprised that it did not shift under her weight.

  What a man. What a life she was going to lead with him—someone who would never cease to amaze her, confuse her, surprise her.

  Happiness such as she had never known was rushing through her, and not merely the physical reaction to the magic of his touch. Being loved by him was something she could never have predicted.

  Despite it all, she had managed to do what she had never anticipated—she had found her perfect match.

  “Did I hear the door?”

  Theodosia jumped and pulled her skirts level hastily as she turned to see Robins peering around the corner curiously.

  “Door?” she repeated. “No, I do not think so. Is breakfast ready, Robins, I need to depart in less than an hour.”

  The maid bobbed a curtsey, and soon the clatter of plates could be heard coming from the dining room. Theodosia was not entirely sure how she managed to walk the few yards to a chair, but she did, eating some hot buttered toast quickly as the clock chimed half-past eight. She would need to hurry if she were not to be late.

  “Ah, Miss Ashbrooke,” said Mrs. Lymington as she was ushered into their rooms just thirty minutes later. “And right on time, too. I must say I am impressed.”

  There were numerous clocks all chiming nine o’clock in the impressive rooms that the Lymingtons had taken for the Season. The very best ro
oms on Gay Street, all part of their plan to marry off their girls—and marry them off well.

  “My absolute honor to be here, Mrs. Lymington,” she said smoothly as they moved into an ostentatiously decorated drawing room that would make even the dowager countess raise an eyebrow. “And are we to have the pleasure of Miss Lymington’s presence for our interview?”

  “Sadly not,” said Mrs. Lymington with a sigh as she indicated that Theodosia guest should be seated. “Tea, Dawkins. No, darling Olivia already has an engagement—such a popular child, it is so hard when one’s daughter is in greater demand than oneself!”

  This last sentence was said with a laugh, but Theodosia could tell as she seated herself in a comfortable settee, that there was a little sadness behind the quip.

  “’Tis always the way with elegant mothers,” she said aloud, in that knowing and authoritative voice that always placated the more mature women. “They raise such wonderful daughters, they simply cannot manage all the invitations they receive.”

  And of course, Mrs. Lymington preened, and all was well, and the appointment could begin.

  “Now Miss Isabella is engaged, we must turn to her twin,” Theodosia said briskly, pulling out her notebook and forcing down a yawn. “Miss Olivia. Tell me about her.”

  It must have been the lack of sleep. It was the only explanation for why she continued to stave off yawns over the next ten minutes as Mrs. Lymington began a monologue about the beauty and talents of her eldest born.

  “—so personable, I think that is the word I would use to describe her,” the devoted mother continued. “Very pretty, of course, though some have said Isabella was the prettier of the two sisters, which I have to say is very unfair, particularly when…”

  Most of the words were starting to wash over Theodosia. Her notes were getting scrappier and shorter, nothing like the detailed thoughts she usually collated.

  Olivia: eldest of four, twins. Younger twin engaged—to Duke of Larnwick. Pretty, personable

  “—and of course, the fortune!”

  Theodosia raised her head. Yes, the Lymington fortune. She had heard much about it through the tittle-tattle of the gossips, but she had to be sure. Such a delicate question, though.