Page 32 of Her Notorious Rake
“He is your father’s brother. Your uncle. It is pleasant to have Celeste and him here.”
Dalton rose, knees watery. “Uncle ErnesthatedFather. Heavens, he still does, though the man is dead.”
Mother’s eyes widened, her face draining of color somehow even more. “How could you say such a thing?” her voice shook.
Dalton clenched his hands into fists. “Didn’t you ever see that?”
Closing her eyes, Mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let us speak of something else. This whole matter is confusing, I can’t think of it right now.”
With a swallow, Dalton nodded. “Of course. Forgive me, Mother.” He hurried to her, heart squeezing as she trembled in his arms. She began to weep, softly at first, and then bitterly. “Hastings!” he called.
His mother’s maid, who had been waiting in the hall, swept in and took her by the arm. “Come, my lady.”
Dalton sank back down into the chair, covering his face in his hands.
Chapter 15
Gemma was thankful to be alone when a delivery arrived at Aunt Philippa’s house. For Gemma herself, the footman announced, placing it in her hands. Tears blurring her eyes, she stared down at the book in her hands, with the same cover as the one she had once read over and over again. She caught her breath, tracing her fingers over the gilt letters upon it, and opened to the heavy vellum pages that she almost knew by heart.
True to his word, Lord Blakemore had sent the book. She had half-expected him to forget. To apologize, make excuses at the next ball. But he had indeed remembered. And she sat staring at the proof of it, of his consideration, his thoughtfulness. Her throat tight, she began to flip through the worn pages, and it was as if she were walking a path she’d strolled down a thousand times before. She snapped it shut and hugged it close to her chest, a sob wracking her.
For a moment, her grief lessened, and it was as if Father were there, right beside her on the settee. Reading aloud a section on the comets. She would lean her head against his shoulder, listening intently. And so many days she had stolen into his library, curled up on the windowsill, a kitten napping on her feet, and read the book from cover to cover.
Taking in a deep breath to compose herself, Gemma opened her eyes and rose, smoothing her skirts. She would take it upstairs at once. As she was about to climb the stairs to her room, the butler, Gibbons, stopped her. “Miss. You have just received a letter. From Willow Grove.”
Gemma caught her breath. A letter from Mama.
“Thank you, Gibbons,” she smiled, receiving the envelope. She hurried up the stairs with her book and now her letter, andonce inside her room she set the book down carefully before tearing open the envelope. The lump returned to her throat as she read the first line on the page,My darling Gemma.
Homesickness swelled inside her, and she sank down onto her bed, flopping back upon it in a most unladylike way as she read.
Her mother wrote that she missed Gemma desperately, that the cottage was hardly the same without her.Vicar Jennings is quite melancholy about your departure. He calls frequently, inquiring about your season in London. I do believe that he is anxious for your return. Should he, there is no doubt you might secure a proposal of marriage.
Gemma lowered the letter, grimacing. The kindly vicar was certainly of a pleasant temperament, but she could not imagine a life tied to him as husband and wife.
It was the same thing with Lord Neville, who her aunt evidently sought for on Gemma’s behalf.
She huffed out an exasperated sigh. As much as she missed Mama, if she were to return to Willow Grove, she would need to be forthcoming about not wishing to marry for anything but love. Although, something told her that Mama would find such a sentiment ridiculous. Impractical.
So be it, Gemma told herself.If it means remaining true to myself.
Someone rapped on the door and Gemma sat up, calling, “Come in.”
Aunt Philippa swept in, casting her a pointed look. Gemma straightened correcting her posture.
“Better,” Aunt Philippa approved. “Tonight, I shall hold a dinner party. Does that sound agreeable?”
“Oh, very!” Gemma scrambled to her feet, heart pounding. Perhaps she could invite Lord Blakemore, thank him in person for the book.
But before she could speak, Aunt Philippa declared, “Lord Neville shall attend. He’s quite taken with you.”So is Vicar Jennings, evidently.
Gemma tried to smile.
“Now, let me decide upon your gown. Ah, this red suits your complexion very well. It almost exactly matches the colour of your lips. Come, come!”
Gemma hastened over and Aunt Philippa handed her the dress. “Begin to change, I will call in Rose!” she practically screeched, causing Gemma to start.
Rose hastened into the bedroom. “Help Miss Hayesworth into her gown, and there are several others she will be trying as well. Such as…this emerald. It would suit your complexion and your hair.”
