Page 86 of A Highly Unlikely Duchess
Her parents were crossing the room toward her. Her mother first, in pale grey silk, her expression doing the particular careful thing it did in public, composed and warm in the same amount. Her father was behind her, taller, slower.
Her mother reached her first and took both her hands. "My darling," she said quietly. "This room."
"Do you like it?" Emily said.
"Like it?" her mother asked, as if it were an entirely insufficient response. She looked around the ballroom, absorbing everything. "Emily, this is extraordinary."
Emily felt warmth move through her chest. “I’m glad.”
"My dear girl," her mother whispered, reaching out to squeeze Emily’s hands. She looked as though she might burst into tears of joy right there next to the lemon tarts. "I knew you were a Duchess now, but seeing you in the middle of all this... It’s like a fairytale.”
"It is a triumph, Emily..." her father, Charles, said. Emily noted that he looked different. A bit too... relaxed. He surveyed the room, then leaned in, his expression softening as he looked at her. "What you have accomplished here in a few months is... remarkable. I have seen many a season in my time, but never have I seen a ball with this much... life. His Grace spoke to me earlier about the arrangements for the boy’s grandfather. You did well with that. I am glad you, too, Frederick. It could not have turned out any better given the situation."
He paused, a rare glint of emotion in his eyes. "I know what you think of me. What you think of your mother. We might have mourned the loss of your sister in a... cruel way, but...”
“We shouldn’t have let you carry the responsibility of Frederick alone,” her mother added. “It took us too long to realize.”
“You make a good Duchess,” Charles added. “I couldn't be prouder to see how you have mastered this world."
Emily felt a swell of pride so fierce it brought a sting to her eyes. She looked across the room, catching Theodore’s gaze from where he stood speaking with a government minister. Even from a distance, the look he gave her was one of absolute, unwavering comfort.
She watched him say something to the minister. She watched the minister nod, and Theodore turn and cross the room toward her. It was as if a tether existed between them, pulling him across the marble floor with an urgency that made Emily’s pulse quicken.
"If you will excuse me, Mama, Papa," Emily said, offering a graceful but hasty curtsy. "I must speak with Theodore, but we shall continue this later. I am so glad you are here."
She turned, intending to meet him halfway, but he had already crossed the distance. Before she had taken more than a few steps, he was there, his large frame shielding her from the prying eyes of the Ton. He reached out, his hand settling firmly at the small of her back.
"Is everything all right?" he asked. His brow was slightly furrowed, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress or fatigue. "You looked overwhelmed for a moment."
"I am fine, Theo," Emily replied, leaning into his touch and relishing the feeling of his palm through her gown. She glanced back toward her parents, who were still watching her. "Genuinely fine. It was just... that was the first time I had ever heard my father praise me for anything. In my entire life, I do not think I have ever felt his approval quite like that."
Theodore’s expression softened, a shadow of a look playing in his eyes. "It is long overdue, Emily. You deserve every word of it."
"The strange thing is," she whispered, looking up at him as the scent of his cologne wrapped around her. "I realized as he was speaking that I did not care as much as I thought I would. His praise used to be the only thing I sought, but now... it is your opinion that matters to me. That is...astounding. I care more about what my husband thinks than anyone else in this room."
Theodore went very still. His gaze deepened, the blue of his eyes darkening with a raw, intense emotion. He looked at her as if she had just handed him a kingdom, his hand tightening slightly against her waist.
"Is that so?" he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle against the fabric of her dress. "That is a dangerous thing to tell a man as possessive as I am, Emily. It makes me want to whisk you away from your own ball just so I can have you all to myself."
Emily let out a soft laugh, a sound that felt entirely foreign to the girl she had been before the marriage. "You would not dare. Julia would have your head if you ruined her masterpiece."
"A fair point," he conceded, his grin widening as he pulled her a fraction closer. "But do not think I will not hold you to that sentiment once the last candle is snuffed out."
The air between them suddenly thickened, charged with a magnetic pull that made the surrounding music and the chatter of the Ton fade instantly. Emily’s hands moved instinctively, her fingers traveling up the lapels of his evening coat until they rested against his chest, feeling the heavy, thudding beat of his heart beneath the silk. Theodore’s touch turned possessive, his hand at her waist surged forward, his fingers splaying wide to draw her flush against him. The friction of their bodies, even through layers of formal wear, sent a jolt of heat through her that made her knees feel weak.
She looked up at him, her breath hitching. She wondered if it would be a scandal to disappear now, just for a moment, to find a dark corner where they could breathe each other in and settle the restless, aching need that had begun to simmer. They needed to be alone if they were to have any hope of functioning as host and hostess for the rest of the night.
Before the suggestion could leave her lips, Theodore leaned down, his forehead resting against hers for a fleeting, intense second.
"On second thought," he rasped, his voice a vibration that she felt more than heard. "Maybe we can just stay five minutes alone in the hallway. Just give me five minutes, Emily. I want to hold you in my arms without a hundred pairs of eyes watching us. Please."
"I would like that very much," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
With a practiced, subtle grace, he steered her away from the edge of the dance floor and toward the shadowed corridor that led to the library. The moment they stepped past the heavy oak doors and into the quiet, dimly lit hallway, the roar of the ball vanished.
Theodore didn't wait. He pulled her into the first deep alcove they reached, his arms wrapping around her with a desperate, crushing strength.
He squeezed her into him, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he inhaled the scent of her skin. Emily clung to him, her arms locked around his neck, as he began to rock them slowly from side to side. For those few seconds.
