Chapter Thirteen
The longcase clock in one of the corridors struck midday as Emma passed on her way to the ballroom.
She tried to stifle a yawn, for she’d spent much of the night with her husband in his suite, and though it had taken a bit to acclimate to sleeping beside him again, the feelings of safety and security it had brought had been unmatched.
For the first time in a long while, she held onto hope that her marriage would come out right in the end.
As she entered the ballroom where maids and footmen were busy polishing the floor and cleaning windows, she allowed herself a small smile.
The coupling they’d shared last night had exceeded every expectation and had surprised her as well, and beyond that, he hadn’t withdrawn but had put his seed into her when he’d found release.
Did that mean he wanted a family with her? Flutters of excitement went through her lower belly, for there was a chance she might soon have a babe in her belly.
The activity in the ballroom distracted Emma from her thoughts.
Wooden pedestals created to resemble Roman-style columns had been brought into the room and placed about the space.
No doubt floral arrangements would sit upon them, and if they were as spectacular as what she and the housekeeper had ordered, they would lend heightened romance to the affair.
One of the footmen had gone up a ladder and was securing strings of hearts made from red and pink foiled paper to the ceiling.
Other foiled hearts had been attached to swags of greenery and were affixed over the double doors.
Once the remainder of the decorations were in place, the room would be completely transformed into a veritable bower of love.
She stopped a passing maid, who carried pink tissue paper in her hands. “You and the others have done a lovely job with the decorating. I can’t wait to see the final scope of it.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the young woman said with a tiny curtsey. Then she looked at something past Emma’s shoulder. Her eyes widened and she scampered away.
When Emma turned, her gaze landed on Thornton, and she smiled again. “I wondered if you would make an appearance this afternoon. You were safely in dreamland when I left to do the necessary ablutions this morning.”
“How could I not? When I awoke and found you gone, I was immediately worried.” The grin he gave her was this side of wicked, and when he cupped her cheek regardless of the servants in the room, a tremble of need went down her spine. “All well this morning?”
“Yes, of course.” He drew the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “Last night was quite… something,” he said in a lowered voice.
“It was.” Heat went through her cheeks. “Um, did you mean to…?” She gestured between them and hoped he understood what she couldn’t say.
“Yes.” The duke nodded. “We shall meet whatever happens in the future together.”
“Oh.” Trembles of joy went through her person. “Remember the letters we exchanged while you were away? Do you still have them?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I have all the ones you sent me.” Thank goodness she’d left them at the manor.
“You do? Here?” Surprise went through his expression.
“Yes, in a trunk in my rooms.” She took his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Will you fetch them as well as yours for me?”
The duke frowned as he stepped away and removed his hand from her cheek. “Why?”
“I want to show you something.”
“Very well.” He nodded as he sent his gaze about the room. “Meet me in the drawing room. It’s quite busy ‘round here.”
With a nod, she watched while he exited the room, her attention focused on his taut backside clad in skintight buff-colored breeches. Then she sighed. Oh, she wasn’t nearly done with him in carnal endeavors, but they would have to wait.
By the time Emma made her way up to the drawing room, Thornton was waiting for her. He’d been quick at his errand, it seemed.
“I appreciate how efficient you were at bringing these.” She reached for a packet of yellowing letters tied together with a blue satin ribbon.
Where he’d procured the ribbon, she couldn’t begin to guess, but it had a cheerful effect.
After sitting on a low sofa, she undid the knot, flipped through the envelopes until she found the one she wanted. “Ah, here we go.”
“How can you even remember what you wrote or when?”
She shrugged. “I suppose a woman always knows.” After smoothing out the missive on her lap, Emma cleared her throat.
“I wrote this midway through your commission.” When he settled on the sofa next to her, she pointed to the handwritten line she particularly wished for him to see.
“’… my dearest, do you even know how much I long to be with you?
To have you home? I cannot wait until we speak vows to each other.
’” She paused merely to hold his gaze with her own.
“’We may not know each other that well in person, but I know everything I need through these letters, and I have my memory of how you looked on that ballroom floor to keep me going.
’” Her hand holding the letter shook; the paper trembled.
“’Your face is as dear to me as the most sacred treasure; that tiny dimple in your right cheek keeps me up at night.
When I gaze upon you, I see your scars, acknowledge them, but they are part of you, and I wouldn’t change that for anything. ’”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Mere words, designed to snare my interest during our engagement period, I should think.”
“Don’t be an arse.” She snorted, only mildly annoyed with him. As Emma folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, she said, “Those sentiments haven’t changed, Cecil. To me, you are most attractive, and every time I look at you, I fight to control my base instincts.”
There was no shame in admitting such, was there?
“That is good to know.” For a second, his eyes darkened to pure sapphire, but then the letters in his lap captured his full attention.
“But I appreciate your ardor, and that you said so. Sometimes I get so lost in the basics of the moment that I forget all the good that has been in my life.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “You are that, sweeting.”
“Oh.” A piece of her heart flew into his keeping all over again, for there was nothing but truth in his eyes.
She laid a hand on his arm, and his muscles went taut at her touch.
“After our Valentine’s ball, I don’t want you to hide yourself away any longer.
I want to go out into society on your arm, whether that be here or in London, to show everyone what a wonderful man you are, what a catch you are, and how glad I am that we married. ”
Fear entered his expression. “People will stare.”
A soft chuckle escaped her. “People will stare regardless because you are a duke. You might as well enjoy your life and care not what they think.”
He nodded then pulled out a letter she’d written. Quickly taking it out and unfolding it, he scanned the words. “Look here. You had written at some point you couldn’t wait until we danced together, because our time at that ball where we met went by far too quickly.”
“It did, indeed, and our one waltz that night was interrupted, for you whisked me from the ballroom to ply me with kisses.” It was a fond memory, and she nodded with a slight smile.
“Since then, we never did have the chance to dance. Following our nuptial ceremony, you were so insistent on coming together in other ways that everything fell to the wayside.”
Not that she’d minded.
“Then it’s settled.” In silence, he stood up from the sofa and left the letters scattered on the cushions. After grabbing his cane, he offered her his other hand. “Come with me.”
“Where?” She offered no protest when he assisted her into a standing position.
His expression was mysterious. “Just come. No questions.”
“All right.” Truth be told, she was only too happy to be with him, and the fact that he seemed relaxed was all to the better.
If she was confused when he led her into the ballroom, she said nothing, but then he gasped at the ongoing transformation with the Valentine’s decorations. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“The guests will adore it.” Without further discussion as was his wont, he rested his cane against the wall then took her into his arms. “Meanwhile you and I are sharing a dance in this moment.” Before she could form a reply, he led her into the first steps of a Continental waltz heedless of the maids and footmen decorating and occupying the room.
With each circle about the room as he avoided the servants and various pieces of furniture in use, Emma couldn’t help but feel swept away.
Easily, she surrendered to the romance of the escapade, for it was quite romantic and he was so heroic.
Just like a knight out of a story book as well as just as handsome.
She liked a hero to have a few dents and dings in his armor.
It meant he’d been brave a time or two before.
She squeezed the hand that rested on his shoulder. When she peered into his eyes, she nearly tumbled into those dark blue pools. “My life before I met you was so dull compared to now.”
“Why?” He held her gaze. “You’ve never mentioned anything like that before.”
“I’d been engaged to a man who wasn’t titled, but he wouldn’t go through with the wedding until he’d made enough money to buy a house.
A noble thought, of course, but the delay wasn’t needed.
” A tinge of sadness went through her chest from the memory.
“He ended up dying in the war, not through combat or anything heroic, but because he’d received a gash on his leg from a rusty piece of fencing, developed an infection, and then drifted away. ”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” On one of the turns, he pulled her ever closer to his body.