Page 561 of From Rakes to Riches

“I’ve never been one to wait for anything. I proposed in the middle of the season.”

Gemma held a watchful reserve. She understood this story didn’t end well.

“And neither was I one to do anything by half measures.” Rake didn’t like the bitter note that sounded in his voice. “I proposed at a ball…in the middle of the dancing floor…down on one knee…in front of theton. All the ladies, some of the lords, too, found a few tears in their eyes. Felicity and I had just proven that true love existed.”

“And?” asked Gemma, dread hanging about her.

“It was a lie.”

“What happened?”

“Felicity ran off with her father’s estate manager a week later.” Rake spoke without emotion, simply relating facts.

“Oh my.”

“It turned out that Felicity wasn’t as keen on our courtship as her father. A duke is a great catch, in case you didn’t know.” The bitterness again. “Sir William had known of Felicity’s affection for his estate manager and had wanted her married before she could make fools of her family.”

“So, she made a fool of you.”

And there it was.

The truth of the matter laid bare.

“I was the laughingstock of theton, of course,” he said, attempting levity. “Nothing the hazing at Eton hadn’t prepared me for.”

No responding lightness came from Gemma. “Somehow, I doubt that very much,” she said. “So, you made a decision.”

“Oh? And what is that?” He didn’t necessarily mind Gemma telling him about himself. In fact, he found himself tensing with anticipation.

“You decided that in matters of marriage, your heart would never become entangled again.”

She would see that.

“It will come as no surprise to you that I didn’t take to being a laughingstock.” He shrugged, hoping the dismissive gesture masked the seriousness behind those words. “I decided Mother had it right about marriage.”

“Yourmother?”

A sudden chortle erupted from him. “I didn’t spring from a pod fully formed.”

Gemma laughed, sheepish. “One could almost forget.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…” She gazed out across the cloud-cloaked, rain-soaked countryside and searched for the correct sequence of words. “You’re so…” Again, words appeared to be failing her.

“Magnificent?” he asked with a single lifted eyebrow.

“You know that about yourself, do you?”

Never once had Rake conducted a conversation like this one. It put him on the wrong foot. The fact was he did know that was what people thought of him. Whether or not it was true was beside the point.

“I’ve been assured of my magnificence all my life,” he found himself saying. “And believed it.” A beat. “Until…”

“Felicity.”

“Perhaps I was a little less magnificent than I’d supposed.” More words wanted to be spoken… “Perhaps a little more human.”

Gemma nodded, slowly, absorbing his words…his confession. “What did your mother have right about marriage?”

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