Page 63 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
She studied herself. Her hips were rounded and considerably more ample than Violet’s, but on the whole, she was of average build. Her breasts were not so small or so large as to earn the duke’s disdain. If there was something blatantly out of place, Daisy had never told her so. Perhaps if she failed tonight, she’d ask.
She donned her wrapper and summoned Daisy to do her hair.
“How do you want it done?” Daisy asked, running her fingers through the long tresses as Emma sat in front of the mirror.
Emma bit her lip, embarrassed. “Seductive,” she squeaked.
Daisy’s mouth twitched. “We can do that.”
She loosely curled a few ringlets around Emma’s face and brushed out the length until it gleamed in the candlelight, then she dressed the hair with something from a bottle. Emma breathed in the scent of jasmine.
“They say it’s an aphrodisiac,” Daisy whispered.
“Oh.” If it were possible to vanish from embarrassment, Emma would have. “Thank you.”
“Good luck,” Daisy said. “You look lovely. If this doesn’t work, his prick is broken, and don’t let him tell you different.”
Emma laughed, some of the tension releasing from her stiff shoulders. “Never change.”
Daisy sent her a cheeky grin. “I don’t intend to.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Good night, Your Grace.”
“Sleep well, Daisy.”
When the maid had left, Emma rose and shed her robe. She walked to the connecting door and, before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked.
Nobody answered.
She cracked the door open and peeked through. The bedchamber was empty.
Curious, she looked around. The duke’s chamber hadn’t been included in her tour, and she’d only caught a glimpse of it yesterday. The walls were a masculine shade of green, and in the center of the room was the bed, which was covered with a navy bedspread and plush pillows.
She entered. Vaughan hadn’t locked the door, so presumably he didn’t mind her being in here. She completed a circuit of theroom, padding silently on bare feet. As in her chamber, a large portrait occupied one of the walls. It looked old enough that she presumed its subject was an ancestor rather than the duke’s father.
She wandered to his wardrobe and looked inside. All of his coats and trousers were stored neatly alongside cravats waiting to be worn.
Guilt pinched her for snooping, so she closed the wardrobe and sat on the edge of the bed. There was no telling when the duke might turn up, so she ought to be prepared. Perhaps she could pose seductively, and when he saw her, he’d have no choice but to ravish her.
She giggled to herself. Now that she knew a little more about what ravishing entailed, she certainly wasn’t opposed, although it would be nice for him not to run away afterward.
She clambered onto the bed and lay on her back with her head on a pillow. Was that seductive? It didn’t feel as though she was doing enough. She parted her thighs, but embarrassment washed through her, so she closed them again. She rolled onto her side and inched the nightgown up to reveal a little more of her leg.
There. That would do.
She might not be as tempting as some women, but at least she’d be able to look him in the eyes without dying of humiliation.
Time ticked by, and the duke didn’t turn up.
Emma adjusted her skirt again and rubbed her fingers together to keep them warm. She didn’t want to invite herself beneath the covers, and besides, she didn’t think the lump of her body underneath a bedspread would entice Vaughan to make love to her.
After what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes or so, the bedroom door opened, and Vaughan strodein. He stopped short at the sight of her. His gaze tracked the length of her body before bouncing up to her face.
“What are you doing?” His voice was tight.
“I’m ready to perform my wifely duty,” she said.
He cringed, and she didn’t understand why. Was she really that objectionable?
“Don’t tell me I’m not ready,” she said as he opened his mouth to speak. “That isn’t your decision.”
