Always the Matchmaker (Never the Bride Book 8)

by Emily E K Murdoch

  He had not expected it to go this wrong. A quick look at Teddy told him the embarrassment he felt was nothing to the shame she was plunged into. His mother’s voice, always clear and resounding, had risen with every word and was now echoing around the room. A few people furthest from them had actually risen from their seats to see what was happening.

  Attempting to keep his voice calm, he said, “You can accept it or not. That is your affair. This wedding is going to happen regardless.”

  Unable to manage her son, she turned her fury on Teddy. “What have you done to him?”

  “Me? Dear woman!” Teddy had been embarrassed, that was certain, but she was not going to permit herself to be spoken to in such a manner.

  Straightening her back and giving the dowager countess just as fine a glare as she was receiving, she said imperiously, “I have done nothing to your son except push him in the direction of titled, beautiful, and wealthy young ladies. It is hardly my fault if he preferred me.”

  “Poppycock,” his mother snapped.

  “I refused your son the first two times he offered for me,” Teddy said with just as much feeling, “for I, too, felt the impropriety! But I had already grown to love him, and with each passing day, the reasons to reject him disappeared. We are both adults, of age, and we know what we want.”

  “I know precisely what you want, you harlot,” said the older woman, spite pouring from her lips. “You want a title, a fortune, a place in society your meager father was never able to give you! You have used your wiles to ensnare my son, to—”

  “And is that not what every woman does, use her wiles?” Albemarle interrupted, attempting to bring some levity to the conversation. This was all getting far too serious, too personal.

  Teddy rose. “I see no point in continuing this discussion. Thank you for your time, your ladyship.”

  She started to walk away.

  Standing up himself, Albemarle said stiffly to his mother, “Your invitation will come by post. We will be glad to see you there, but the wedding will go ahead if you decide to stand by your foolish principles.”

  As he walked away, he heard her shout, “Albemarle! Albemarle, you come back here this minute and—”

  It was at that point that her cries fell out of earshot, for he was too busy striding forward to find Teddy. He needed to talk to her. He needed to explain.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The only sound Theodosia could make out was the pounding of blood in her ears.

  There must have been other sounds, of course. She could see plates being cleared away by footmen, mutterings and whisperings as people stared, even a few gasping at the way she pushed past someone to keep moving.

  But she had to get away. Far away from her.

  With no thought to where she was going, no attention paid to her footsteps, Theodosia almost stumbled as she clattered through the entrance to the Assembly Rooms.

  “Mind out, miss!” a gentleman shouted as she pushed past him, no regard for politeness or etiquette.

  All she was focused on was putting as much space between her and the dowager countess.

  Why did it hurt so much?

  She should have known. After everything she had been through, she should have predicted this would be the response. She had been foolish to think otherwise.

  Blinking in the brightness of Bath winter sun, she half walked, half staggered down the street.

  “I know precisely what you want, you harlot.”

  Theodosia could taste blood. She had bitten her lip at the mere memory of those words. Hearing those insults hurled at her, in public, for a second time…

  It was agony. She should never have allowed herself to be put in that situation—Albie should never have done that. What had he been thinking?

  “Theodosia!”

  Her name. Someone was shouting it, but she was not interested in speaking to anyone. All she wanted to do was walk, retreat, get as far away from the scene as possible.

  “Theodosia, wait!”

  It was Albie. A small spark of temptation flared in her heart, begging her to stop and speak to him.

  She pushed it aside forcefully as she turned a corner. If she spoke with him, no matter what he said, she knew the tears only just held back would flow.

  The last thing she wanted, in this day of nightmares, was for him to see just how much his mother had hurt her.

  “Teddy, stop!”

  He grabbed her arm, but Theodosia wrenched herself free as she turned on him.

  “Leave me alone!”

  Albie stared. “And why in God’s name would I want to do that? Just leave you? Ignore my mother. I always do.”

  “How can I?” Theodosia managed to say. Her tongue felt like lead, heavy and useless in her mouth. “I should have listened to my instincts. How—how could you let me be subjected to that? I should have rejected you outright the first time you put this ridiculous idea in my head.”

  “Ridiculous—what?” he laughed, his jollity grating on her spirts as he kept pace with her as she started walking again. “Instincts? I do not want to hear a single more word about your instincts against me. That is all in the past now. Teddy, we are getting married!”

  But Theodosia shook her head. Getting married? Was the man a fool? Had he listened to a single word of the conversation in there?

  “I should have refused the account as soon as I realized what you were like,” she said as they paced quickly around the Circus. “I choose my clients, and in this situation, I should have said no. To both you and your mother.”

  The words poured from her, boiling, as though saying them aloud would remove the pain from her soul. But they did nothing but burn her mouth and lash him, the one person she should have been clinging to.

  It had been eight years since she had spoken her mind like this. Well, perhaps she should have done so long ago. Maybe then, all this pent-up rage and fury would not be pouring down onto Albemarle Howard’s head.

  Theodosia saw the hurt in his eyes but could not stop herself. If she shared the pain, ensured he felt some of her agony, too, then perhaps she would feel it less.

  “I don’t know what has got into you!” Albie sounded genuinely hurt as they turned the corner. “Teddy, wait!”

  “Do not call me that,” she said angrily.

  It was happening again. It was exactly the same as before, when—

  No. She would not think of that. She would not think of him. She had promised herself, all those years ago, that he would not have power over her.

  “I am not my mother, Theodosia, and I would appreciate it if you would not treat me like her!”

  Albie’s words were full of pain, disappointment, and frustration at his mother. If Theodosia had not been so full of anger, perhaps she would have heard his tone and realized that she was not the only injured party.

  “Your mother is correct about one thing, though,” she said. “I will give her that. You need someone with a title. With money, with connections, with—”

  “Stop,” he spoke the word heavily and paired it with grabbing her around the waist, forcing her to stop walking.

  “Albemarle!”

  This was wrong, anyone could see! But the whole of society knew she was his matchmaker, Theodosia thought bitterly. They will chalk this up to merely a tiff between a man and his servant. They would never look at her and see a bride.

  “You have better connections than anyone in society, so don’t talk rubbish,” he said, low into her ear. “And what is more, and far more important, I know I could have someone else. I want you.”

  Theodosia colored. His words—although pleasant to hear—could not reach her heart. She had drawn up the drawbridge, and it would be impossible for anyone to reach it now without heavy cannons and a long siege.

  His dark eyes were focused on hers, and Theodosia swallowed. He was so handsome, so kind. He made her feel…well. Everything. Everything she had shut out of her life. Everything she thought was forbidden. Someone destined never
to be the bride, but always at the bride’s side.

  “You speak harshly to me, Teddy, and for no good reason as far as I can see,” he murmured so no one could hear. “This feels like an overreaction. What did my mother do other than speak her mind? She is entitled to her own wrong opinion, I suppose, which is an end to it. I am marrying you.”

  It was impossible that they would marry. She should have seen that right from the start, and now…

  Now she had given him everything and received nothing in return. The most precious part of her just been handed over, as though it was worthless, and he had taken it willingly.

  “The Earl of Lenskeyn is notorious, as I am sure you well know, for bedding then running!”

  Her heart hardened once more, and Theodosia attempted to observe him without being swayed by the dashingly handsome visage.

  This man to whom she had initially pledged her heart…what did she know of him, really?

  His title, to be sure. The fourteenth Earl of Lenskeyn was known at least by name to anyone in polite society who hoped to move in its upper echelons.

  But more than that?

  Nothing. A few weeks and hours together—more than any of her clients. But she had not fallen in love with any of them. She had met more eligible gentlemen in the last few years than most young ladies ever met in their lives.

  So, what made him different, special?

  Albie smiled. “There you go,” he said, removing his arm. “I knew I could make you see reason.”

  The words were enough to rile her, but it was his cavalier attitude that caused fear to grow in her heart.

  Her silence, her introspection, seemed to be enough to appease him. Was that all he wanted, a wife who would be quiet, keep concerns and fears to herself?

  Doubt flowed in. “I wonder…”

  He waited, and Theodosia swallowed. These words, once spoken, could not be taken back.

  “I wonder whether you chose me, of all the ladies who would have loved to be your bride, because it would bring the most grief to your mother.”

  There. They were out.

  Theodosia knew they would not be well-received. What she did not expect was him to swear loudly in the middle of Gay Street.

  “How can you think that of me?” he finished, glaring with genuine hurt. “You of all people?”

  The man she knew would never have thought to upset his mother in such a way—but then, how much did she really know him?

  Most of her ladies made engagements within months. It was typical of today’s society, and Theodosia had never seen anything wrong with it before. Even when a few had expressed, quietly of course, that they were a little concerned things were rushed, Theodosia had always reassured them that these things happened quickly.

  Where love was involved, or even just a passing fancy that could lead to deep affection, one had to act quickly.

  But Albemarle? She had accused him of merely choosing her to spite his only family, and he…

  He had not denied it.

  Beginning to walk once more toward her rooms, she said quietly. “I should have believed my instincts. I should have paid more attention to my notes. You are rude, Albemarle, you are arrogant, you are self-centered, and you love to cause trouble.”

  He had kept pace with her every step down the street, his long legs easily outpacing her own. “Perhaps, but can I not also be loving, caring, and devoted to you? Is it so strange that a man could be both?”

  It was such a surprising response that she stopped in her tracks. How could she unpick her feelings for him when they were so entangled, so mixed in her heart?

  Despite the cooling breeze, Theodosia still felt hot. His mother’s words, spoken only a few minutes ago, were still ringing in her ears.

  “What do you want?” Albie whispered, obviously forcing down the instinct to pull her into his arms. “Marriage? A home? Me?”

  Theodosia swallowed. She had always dreamed of marriage, of a man who adored her, a home they could make together, and if God willed it, children.

  Children to look like them, take after them, inherit everything they created after they were gone.

  But she was no fool. She had seen enough of matchmaking to know desperation for security and devotion were not sufficiently good reasons to marry.

  Had she become so in love with the idea of love that she had convinced herself she loved him—and that he loved her? Had she really been so foolish to lose her virginity, her innocence, because she felt left out? How pathetic was she?

  Her blue eyes met his, and her heart twisted most painfully.

  No matter what he said or did, she could not deny she loved him. Her heart belonged to him, and she would never get it back. If only she could trust him to be careful with it, to take care of her as though she were a precious crystal ornament.

  Easily shattered.

  As she opened her mouth to tell him that, she hesitated.

  Albie’s eyes had been affixed to her own. But as her mind agonized over the best way to express them, his gaze shifted…

  Shifted to the pretty pair of ladies walking past them on the pavement, dressed to the nines in the latest fashions.

  A smile crept over his lips that had nothing to do with her.

  Theodosia blanched. It was as though he had physically assaulted her, so visceral was her reaction.

  Two minutes. Less! That was the length of time she had been silent as she considered her feelings for him, and even in that time, Albemarle Howard had found someone better to look at.

  Nausea rushed through her stomach. After all his fine words, was she not important enough to pay attention to? Was this conversation about whether they truly loved each other so inconsequential?

  “And there, I think, I have my answer,” she said coldly, stepping away from him. In some ways, it was like seeing him properly for the first time. “Please, your lordship, consider this jest of an engagement at an end. I certainly do.”

  Thank heavens she was only a few streets away from her rooms. Turning hurriedly, she paced quickly along the street, hoping to God that Albemarle would understand her tone and leave her be.

  “Hold on a minute, there!”

  He reached her far quicker than she could have imagined, but Theodosia kept her eyes straight and refused to look at him.

  “Damn and blast it, Teddy. I cannot help noticing a pretty woman!”

  Theodosia’s skirts were flying as she moved. “We are discussing whether we should be married, a conversation I would consider very riveting, and you cannot pay attention!”

  So consumed with her conversation with Albemarle, she had barely noticed she had already crossed over the road and arrived at her rooms.

  Before she could open the door, Albemarle’s hand was on her own, holding it back.

  Without any regard for society, for the people on the street staring at this most bizarre altercation, and completely ignoring her shouts of protest, Albemarle pinned her against the door.

  “Unhand me at once!” Theodosia hissed. “How—how dare you! Everyone is looking!”

  And yet, it was impossible to forget that the last time he had pushed her up against something, he had teased her, tipped her over the edge to pleasure, and made her feel…God, he had made her feel…

  Attempting to focus on what was happening in the here and now, she looked into his eyes.

  She loved him. More than life itself, but not more than her own life. She had to protect herself, had to champion her own happiness, and would never undervalue herself again.

  “Teddy,” he growled. “You are starting to annoy me. Now you know this is all nonsense. You have got yourself het up over nothing. We marry in twelve days, and that’s an end to it.”

  “No,” Theodosia breathed, trying to ignore the stares. “No, if I am ever going to be the bride and not the matchmaker, then I need—I want, I deserve someone devoted to me. And that’s not you, Albemarle.”

  The earl said something disgraceful under his breath that s
he did not entirely catch, and then he said, “I will not say I do not have a murky past. I will not say I have not dallied with others. But Teddy, I have chosen you.”

  Somehow, hearing it from his lips—that he had experienced the pleasures they had shared with others—made it all the worse.

  She was no fool. A gentleman who knew how to please a woman could surely have been no innocent. But today was overwhelming her.

  What she would never say, but felt to her core, was that her pride had been hurt. Nothing had gone right today, and the best thing she could do was escape this madman and return to life as it had been.

  A life without Albie.

  Wrenching herself away from him with great difficulty, she managed to say, “I-I will send the fee back to your mother.”

  “I don’t want the damn fee,” he growled. “I want you. Christ alive, Theodosia Ashbrooke, I still want you, and you are not making this easy for me.”

  But his words only served to reinforce why this had all been, somehow, a terrible mistake.

  She swallowed, knowing these would be the last words she ever said to him. “I hope you find someone who will marry you, as I will not. Good day.”

  “Teddy—”

  In that instant, she managed to pull open the door and fling herself across the threshold, just closing it before Albemarle could get his foot in.

  After the hustle and bustle of the street, the hallway was strangely empty.

  “Theodosia!” came the muffled cry of the Earl of Lenskeyn as he hammered on the door. “Theodosia Ashbrooke, let me in!”

  The door creaked in its hinges but did not open. She removed her bonnet and pelisse as though in a dream, hanging them up carefully on the hooks by the door.

  “Teddy! Teddy, let me in!”

  Slowly, she leaned against the door.

  “You are being ridiculous!” Albemarle’s voice was still muffled. “Look, I—I have to go. But I will be back. This conversation is not over, Theodosia!”

  The bangs stopped.

  Then, and only then, did Theodosia allow herself to cry.

  Chapter Sixteen