Even though she had just sipped a full glass of tasteless punch, her mouth was too parched to speak. ‘Yes,’ she mouthed and placed her gloved hand on his solid arm, letting him guide her to the center of the dance floor. The orchestra struck up another waltz.
CHAPTER NINE
Thomas looked down at Emma, stiff as an oak tree in his arms, and silently cursed himself for his attraction to her. Even the village idiot could see she abhorred being held in his arms. Earlier, when she danced the waltz with his brother, she had looked relaxed––as if she enjoyed Sebastian’s hands on her.
Even though Thomas’s hand on her waist burned and the one holding her hand tingled with sensual awareness, she appeared unaffected. There seemed no hope… The faster he married her off, the sooner he could get on with his life and maybe take a well-needed mistress. Or even have an affair with some willing widow. And many ladies had propositioned him this evening. He would not want for intimate female companionship. And the sooner he found a companion the better.
That would get her out of his thoughts, surely.
His time in America had been exciting, and he’d been so busy that he had not had a woman in over a year. No wonder he lusted after Emma, the only female close to him who was not a blood relation.
Thomas’s feet moved of their own accord to the beat of the music, so his mind could concentrate on the soft female in his arms. He could not, in good conscience, consider Myles’s proposal to wed Emma. Nor did he truly believe Myles had meant it. It had been his rebounding heart talking.
After tonight, Thomas’s home would be swamped with gentlemen callers for Emma, Bella and Amelia. How many would come asking for permission to court his ward? Would any be so bold as to propose marriage right off?
If he were not mistaken, many would be so bold. Emma and his sisters were making quite an impression this evening. He groaned. It was going to be a long and tedious afternoon tomorrow––and for all days until this season ended. Or until all three ladies were betrothed and settled.
No matter what gentlemen came courting, Thomas would investigate them thoroughly. Even hire Bow Street Runners if he had to. He would be remiss in his duties if he did not.
Nor would he allow Bella, Amelia or Emma to be saddled with a marriage of convenience. And if the suitor were a fortune hunter, he would be given one chance to prove himself worthy. It was not too long ago that Thomas had been in debt and was considered a fortune hunter. But being a duke had wiped the slate clean, in some ways. Thanks to Mr. Hamilton, though, he no longer qualified for the title of fortune hunter.
It would be hypocritical to dismiss a potential suitor because of lack of family coin. Even a poor gentleman, with good family connections, could make a good and honorable husband.
Emma started in his arms, and he forced his thoughts away and gave her his attention.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. May I be so forward as to ask if you are feeling ill?”
“Pardon?” he queried, his voice sounding bored, even to his own ears. The last thing he wanted to do was make Miss Hamilton think she bored him.
“You made an uncomfortable sound. Is it your stomach again, Your Grace?”
She blushed and sucked on her bottom lip, making the little dimple in her chin more pronounced.
All Thomas could think of was licking the inside of her dimple, and that thought nearly made him groan again. He needed to pay more attention to his bodily noises. If it continued, people would start thinking he was either deathly ill or losing his wits. Neither seemed appropriate qualities for a duke of his years.
He leaned down close to her ear, too close for propriety’s sake, and ignored the sudden racing of his pulse. “I believe I am in need of nourishment. Would you care to join me for refreshments?”
Uncertainty flashed across her face, then she looked down demurely. Thomas could not escape noticing her long, delicate yet thick, blond lashes. “I would enjoy that very much, Your Grace. But first I must thank you for your thoughtfulness in giving me the portrait of my parents and my mama’s pearls.”
“You’re welcome. I have the rest of your mother’s jewelry. All you need do is ask for them, and I’ll take them out of my safe.”
“Once again, thank you.”
***
On the carriage ride home his mother dozed, but Bella, Amelia and Emma chatted overly much. Thomas’s head began to pound and he messaged his temples. And his brother was no better. Sebastian sounded like a silly debutante as well.
How embarrassing. Next time he headed to his club he would take his brother and toughen him up. One couldn’t have the eligible young ladies or their mamas thinking Sebastian a pansy. Actually, the sooner he had him commissioned off to the army the better. And where was that damn commission anyway?