Page 50 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
She thought the duke might eventually say something if she remained mute for long enough, but he didn’t, other than to inquire whether she liked the stew—quite unnecessarily, since she’d emptied her bowl.
After they were finished, he escorted her back to her room.
“Goodnight,” he said and sketched a quick bow as she unlocked the door and entered.
“Goodnight?” she asked, certain that the night could not be over yet. Unfortunately, he seemed to take it as a farewell ratherthan a question and departed. She stared at his back until his own bedroom door shut and the lock clicked into place.
“Well, that went swimmingly,” she muttered, closing her own door. She turned the lock and then looked around, uncertain what to do. Her mother had made it sound as though her husband would come to her tonight, and that was certainly what she’d expected.
Perhaps he wanted her to clean up and get undressed before he arrived. So thinking, she performed her evening ablutions as best she could without the assistance of a maid. She wasn’t certain where Daisy was. Since they’d left earlier, perhaps they had made it farther toward their destination.
Fortunately, Daisy must have been made aware of the travel arrangements at some point, because she’d packed a travel bag for Emma that now sat at the foot of the bed. Emma lifted it onto the bed and opened it, finding everything she should need for a night on the road—except for her maid.
She doubted that the duke had considered whether Emma might need assistance to remove her dress. All of those little buttons along the back were impossible to undo on her own.
She pulled the bellpull, and a young girl responded after a few minutes.
“Can you help me with these?” Emma asked, turning her back to the girl.
“Yes, Your Grace.” The girl shut the door, locked it, and got to work on the buttons. Her fingers were less dexterous than Daisy’s, so it took longer, but Emma was just relieved that she hadn’t had to ask the duke to do it.
When the dress was finally off, the girl helped Emma into one of her new nightgowns, which had been in the travel bag. Emma quickly wrapped a robe around herself and sat on the edge of the bed while the girl removed the hairpins from her hair and brushed it out.
Once she was done, Emma passed her a coin and bid her goodnight. She locked the door behind the girl and went to the mirror. She opened her robe and stared at herself.
The nightgown had been ordered specifically for the wedding night, and the white silk revealed far more of her than any of her previous nightgowns had. In the golden glow cast by the candle on the nightstand, shadows danced across Emma’s skin, and a thrill shot through her.
She looked sultry. Seductive.
Would the duke like it?
She found that she wanted him to. Whether or not he’d chosen Violet first, and despite the fact he wouldn’t have been her first choice of husband, he was her husband and she wanted him to desire her.
But what should she do while she waited?
She checked the drawer of the nightstand, but the only book inside was a bible. Instead of reading, she began to braid her hair. The movements were soothing, and she’d done it so many times that she didn’t have to concentrate.
There was a pink ribbon in her bag, so she used that to tie the end of the braid. Digging deeper into the bag, she uncovered her personal copy ofEmma. Her heart lifted. Darling Daisy. She’d made sure Emma would have her favorite book in a time when everything else was unfamiliar.
She propped herself on the pillows, cracked the spine, and immersed herself in the world of Miss Emma Woodhouse and Mr. Knightley.
When she realized an hour had passed and her husband had not appeared, she began to worry. Perhaps she was supposed to go to him. Had she been wrong to assume that he would make the first move? Maybe he thought it was gentlemanly to allow her to come to him when she was ready.
Uncertain of her actions, she unlocked the door and tiptoed across the hall, glancing left and right to make sure she was alone.
She knocked on his door, and heard a rustle inside, but then all went quiet. She knocked again.
“Your Grace?” she called softly.
There was no response from within.
Her teeth clenched together. He was in there, she’d heard him. Why wouldn’t he answer?
She tried a third time, and when he did not respond, she returned to her room.
Fine, if that was how he wanted to be, then she would do the same to him.
She locked the door, removed her robe, got into bed, and blew out the candle. Then she lay awake, staring into the darkness, certain that he would soon realize his error and come for her.
