Page 31 of The Matchmaker Meets her Duke
Lady Talbot glared at her husband. “Must we go? Duchess Willcrow was just telling me about a dressmaker I’ve never heard of, we simply must go.”
“And we shall, Darling. Tomorrow we’ll go and order you a new dress, how does that sound?”
The woman beamed, little dimples showing in her plump cheeks. She leaned forward and gave Pandora a quick hug. “Thank you for the advice, my dear, and for hosting such a wonderful evening. Willcrow Manor has such a splendid ballroom, I’m glad you convinced His Grace to finally open it back up again.”
Pandora laughed. “I would take the credit if I could, but that falls to the Dowager. This event was her idea. I was simply her excuse.”
Lady Talbot dimpled again. “Well, I hope she uses you as an excuse more often.”
“I’m sure we will have more parties, won’t we, Emmett?” said Pandora with a sly glance up at him.
His eyes narrowed even as he smiled. “I shall take my guest’s pleasure into consideration. I must say, I’m not much of one for parties.”
“Oh, nonsense!” said Lady Talbot. “You danced all night and were most pleasant to your guests. It looked to me like you enjoyed yourself.”
“I suppose it wasn’t that terrible,” said Emmett. “All for the sake of my wife, of course. She had a headache, and I had to take up hosting duties.”
Pandora winced at his side, and his hand tightened on her waist. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on Lady Talbot’s cheek. “Thank you for coming, I greatly enjoyed meeting you. And I’ll certainly take you up on your invitation to visit, perhaps a few days from now?”
“Oh yes, please do! I would love to talk more.”
Lord Talbot tugged at his wife’s waist. “Come, my dear. The coach will be waiting for us.” He reached out and shook Emmett’s hand. “Your Grace, have a pleasant evening.”
Emmett cast a sidelong glance at Pandora. “Oh, I think I will.”
* * *
"A successful party, all in all, wouldn't you say?" he said.
Pandora smiled her approval. "Certainly better than I had dared imagine for my first party."
Emmett's eyebrows shot up of their own accord. "Your first party, indeed?"
He watched her face struggle to not break into a laugh. "You know what I mean. My first party here. As the Duchess of Willcrow."
Pandora let out a breathy sigh as he took her soft hands in his. "Let us go," he said gently. She parted her lips to say something, but she must have been devoid of words because no sound came out.
She nodded, and they glided up the stairs, his waistcoat suddenly too small and tight around his body. He wanted to take it off. He was more aware of the scent of her than he'd ever been, and he felt intoxicated. His fingers yearned to touch her, his mouth to taste her. He wanted to know what secrets hid inside her soft, yielding flesh.
They barely got to the doors of her chambers when Emmett tired of the suspense. He whipped around to her. "Will you have me tonight?"
He watched all the color flood her cheeks, but she responded in leveled, measured tones, "You said that we would go slow. That I would control the pace."
"And you will." So long as her touches did not boil his blood, or send his body into overdrive. Then he would naturally be left with no choice but to mount over her lovely form and take over. But hopefully not. He wouldn't rush her. She would control the pace, he had meant what he said.
In her chamber, Pandora took off her gloves and warmed her hands by the crackling fire. The flames rose and licked at her hands, but she would not be cold for much longer. The temperature had dropped with the arrival of the evening. Emmett was not oblivious to the change in the weather but he was flush with the heat of arousal, and the growing cold had nothing on him.
He took off his coat and sat by the edge of her bed. "Come," he beckoned.
With shy, cautious steps, Pandora came to him. Emmett resisted the urge to loop his arms around her waist and pull her to him. She would take that first step by herself. He would allow her that liberty. Her body smelled of flowers and soft summer days and something else, something that was essentially her. He wanted to bury his head in the pillows of her breasts. It took a moment too long, but he heard Pandora draw in a deep breath before gently wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
"Is this all right?" she whispered.
It was more than all right. The feel of her skin on his jolted his senses. "Yes," said Emmett. Her fingers delved into his hair, and Emmett blew out a groaning sigh.
"What would you have me do next?"
"I would have you use your imagination."
