Page 33 of Her Notorious Rake
“Aunt, it seems that this evening bears more significance in your estimation. May I inquire as to why?”
“Why, Lord Neville, of course. He is London’s most eligible gentleman on the marriage mart. He is older, so I do not imagine he carouses as most younger men do. And his wealth cannot recommend him more.”
“But,” Gemma shook her head, “what if I do notwishto wed him?”
Aunt Philippa began to laugh boisterously. “You do not wish to wed—” she wagged her head. “How ludicrous? Why ever not? I promised your Mama I would see you wed to the most eligible bachelor in London, and that is precisely what I’ve done. If I do not, you will be resigned to marrying a country vicar. But surely you do not wish for that misalignment, do you?”
“No, I—”
“Then Lord Neville it is. You shall be afforded a beautiful home in Manchester Square, everything yours should you wish it…you could not find a man more devoted than Lord Neville.”
Gemma couldn’t speak, staring at her reflection in themirror as another maid entered, and began to help Rose arrange her hair.
***
Gemma descended the grand, front staircase, trailing her hand down the banister as she went. Below, Lord Neville stood, smiling up at her. His blond hair with a touch of grey shone like spun gold in the candlelight.
He bowed to her when she paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Good evening, Miss Hayesworth. You are most exquisite.”
Gemma flushed, dropping her eyes to the ground as she curtsied, and then took his proffered hand. He escorted her to the sitting room with the rest of the guests, who Aunt Philippa ushered along, telling the Ashtons what she had selected for the primary course. “Venison! The best cook could find at the butchers.” Gemma held her breath as she hurried forth on Lord Neville’s arm, his gaze trained upon her.
To her alarm, he led her to the window, everyone’s eyes upon them, and turned to her once they reached it, his hand still clasping hers. “Miss Hayesworth, I should be honoured if you were to accompany me to Vauxhall Gardens.”
The rest of the room waited quietly for Gemma’s reply. She took in a deep breath, and nodded. “I would be delighted to, Lord Neville.”
He smiled broadly. “You would?”
Gemma nodded, just barely refraining from shooting her aunt a glare across the room. Aunt Philippa must have known he meant to do this. She must have planned it. Clenching her jaw, Gemma offered Lord Neville her thanks for his generosity, to which he chuckled softly, swaying closer. His eyes lit into hers, his chuckle fading, and for one terrible moment, Gemma feared he meant to steal a kiss. Of course, he didn’t. To do so would bean affront, an egregious misstep. But his eyes did wander to her lips, and she forced another smile. “I am in want of a drink,” she told him. But he shook his head, hurrying past her. “Please, Miss Hayesworth. Permit me.”
Gemma sank back against the wall just behind her, staring out the window. This evening couldn’t end soon enough. Guilt bit beneath her skin.I could not do better than Lord Neville. Prudence would delight to have such a suitor. But I cannot fathomweddinghim.
“Gemma,” Aunt Philippa hissed, just at her elbow. “He has just made it known to all in attendance that he means to court you. Isn’t that simply marvelous?”
“But of course,” Gemma choked.
“Come, now. You are to remain on his arm. Make haste.”
Gemma was whisked back to Lord Neville and wound her arm with his. She stared at a point on the wall, wishing for the night to be over.
***
The following evening, Lord Neville send his carriage for Gemma and Aunt Philippa, along with Gemma’s maid, Rose. That at least would be a comfort, to have the kindly Rose nearby throughout the evening. Gemma had never visited Vauxhall Gardens before, so she plied Rose with questions as the maid arranged her hair as well as a necklace she’d fastened around Gemma’s throat.
“It is something of a fair, with rope-walkers and fire-eating men,” Rose informed her, smiling at Gemma in the mirror. She went on to describe the fantastical shows that were performed all over Vauxhall, the stalls of food, the bustling crowd. Gemma’s eyes opened wider and for the first time that day, excitement stirred in her stomach. Even if she didn’t enjoy the fawning nature of her companion, it would still be a delightfulexperience. She couldn’t find fault in that. So, as she sank into her seat in Lord Neville’s carriage, averting her eyes from his adoring gaze, she reminded herself that the excursion would at the very least be interesting.
Aunt Philippa persisted in drawing her back into the conversation when she tried to slip out of it. And each time she did, her mouth grew thinner and tighter. Gemma nearly laughed aloud at the sight.
At last, the carriage rumbled to a stop at the banks of the Thames, where their boat would take them to the gardens, and Lord Neville climbed out first to help them each from the cabin.
***
Dalton stared out the window of the carriage, certain that if he turned back to face the rest of the passengers, Celeste would attempt to chatter his ear off.
At last, the carriage slowed and then stopped at the appointed place where the boats set off for Vauxhall Gardens. Dalton climbed out first and then helped Mother and Celeste down the carriage steps. Celeste’s foot slipped on one of the steps and she fell with a cry. Dalton lurched forward, catching her in his arm, and she lifted her chin, blinking up at him coyly. Dalton gave her a taut smile and withdrew once her feet touched the ground. She pouted. “Cousin, won’t you take my arm?”
Dalton could barely refrain from groaning, but he nodded and hooked his arm with hers. She laughed softly, gratified.
Ignoring his mother’s frown, Dalton led Celeste towards the dock where their commissioned boat awaited. Another party approached. They must have commissioned the same boat. Dalton nearly stumbled, however, when his eyes landed on a familiar face.Gemma.He nearly gasped, staring.
