He suspected she was trying to sound coy, but the impact was ruined by her gasps for breath. “Yes,” he growled. “Very much so.”
He pulled himself from her and shoved his member back into his trousers. Then, Matthew grasped Tabitha’s chemise. “We should have you dressed before you leave the room. Otherwise, the staff may suspect we have done something untoward.”
She laughed. “I think everyone will know what we have done regardless.”
Tabitha was admittedly quite correct. It would be difficult to interpret her dishevelled hair and flushed face as anything else.
“Nevertheless,” he said, “we must show a small amount of decorum.”
She stood, wavering a little on her feet as Matthew helped her with her chemise. His assistance was not needed, but smoothing the garment over Tabitha’s lovely form allowed him to caress her delicate curves once more and see how her lips parted slightly at even the smallest touch.
Next, he retrieved her stays from the floor. He slowly laced them around her chest again, giving her breasts intentional and generous caresses as he did. Tabitha let out a small laugh. “You are making the situation worse rather than better,” she said. “I feel as though I am becoming flustered all over again.”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head in mock dismay. “You must be quite careful at the ball tomorrow. I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour then.”
Her gray eyes sparkled. “I think you will because you will also be burning with need for me. You said yourself that you would be thinking of me.”
Matthew paused and looked at her—red-faced and rumpled with her crumpled chemise and hastily laced stays—and smiled. “I will,” he agreed softly. “I will think of you just like this, and it will drive me mad.”
“Then, I shall not look forward to the ball,” Tabitha said. “I shall look forward to what will happen after the ball.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
That sounded like the most splendid idea. He grasped Tabitha’s sodden gown and helped her dress again. “Perhaps the laundress can save it,” she mused.
“If not, we may have to consider another solution,” Matthew said. “Perhaps you should take all your future meals in a state of undress to spare the fabric.”
“Only if you also intend to take your meals in a similar state,” she said, grinning.
“Do not test me,” he replied.
She gave him one final smile before excusing herself to change her wardrobe. Matthew stared for a long time at the door through which she had vanished. Tabitha was not Rosemary, and he did feel a small inkling of guilt for being so affectionate with this young woman.
But at the same time, he could not deny that he was, well, almost happy. Content, certainly, with the company of this young lady. Perhaps contentment would be enough.
Chapter 19
It was Tabitha’s first ball since her engagement to Matthew. After having a pleasant dinner with the Dowager Duchess of Hillsburgh, Lady Miriam, and her husband, Tabitha was treated to a lovely first dance with Matthew. And a pleasant second dance. By the third, she teasingly suggested that people would say he was showing her too much affection, which earned her a sly smile.
After that dance, they joined the Dowager Duchess of Hillsburgh and Lady Miriam on the far side of the room. They were speaking to one another and sipping lemonade from the refreshments table. “You seem to be enjoying yourselves,” the Dowager Duchess said, her expression brightening.
“We are, indeed,” Matthew said. “You have planned a magnificent ball, Mother.”
“She always does,” Lady Miriam said. “I wish I had half her talent for planning.”
“Well,” the Dowager Duchess said, chuckling. “I imagine everyone does. You both look quite well, too. I meant to say something earlier. I think marriage suits the both of you.”
Tabitha felt heat rush to her face, and her mind went unbidden to Matthew’s promise that he would be thinking about her naked and aroused atop the dining hall table. “Yes, well …” she trailed off. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
She felt a little embarrassed but also pleased that the Dowager Duchess treated her like family, and Matthew—despite their icy start—treated her like he would a real wife. Perhaps Tabitha’s marriage was not perfect, but she could not deny that there was a lot of good in it.
“Hillsburgh!” A masculine voice cut the air.
Matthew turned his head in the direction of the voice. “Ah, that is Weatherby. I must speak to him. Excuse me, ladies.”
After he left, the Dowager Duchess of Hillsburgh grasped Tabitha’s hand. “I must thank you. I never thought I would see my son so happy ever again, but he seems quite pleased with you.”
“He is a good man,” Tabitha said. “He deserves to be happy.”
