Page 41 of Her Notorious Rake
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The next morning, she joined Aunt Philippa in the dining room for breakfast. She found her aunt in a dour mood, her face pale and drawn, her lips pursed, as she stirred her tea loudly.
Gemma sank into her seat beside her diagonal to her aunt’s at one end of the table, and Aunt Philippa shot her a hard look. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very,” Gemma tried to smile, though it faltered in the face of Aunt Philippa’s raised eyebrow.
“And I trust you enjoyed Vauxhall Gardens?”
“Very much,” Gemma nodded. She spooned some sugar into her own tea, and poured some milk into it.
“Lord Neville is taken with you. Very. I should not be surprised if he were to offer you a proposal of marriage by the end of this fortnight.”
Gemma nearly choked on her tea, and carefully swallowed so as to not spit it all out. “A fortnight?”
“Like I told you, my dear. You could not do better thanNeville. His reputation is flawless. And I cannot say the same for another certain someone.”
Gemma drew in a deep breath, reminding herself to remain composed. “As much as I am grateful for Lord Neville’s attention to me, I confess—I do not believe we would make a good match.”
“A good match!” Aunt Philippa barked out a laugh. “He is the most eligible bachelor there is. And you, my dear—you are not this season’s most eligible girl on the marriage mart. Nor will you ever be.”
Gemma stared at her, stunned by her aunt’s bluntness. “That may be. But I will not surrender my desire to marry for love.”
“Love will grow,” Aunt Philippa leaned over and tightly grasped Gemma’s hand. “It willgrow. Don’t you understand?”
Gemma’s eyes pricked. “But it is possible. And I cannot give up that chance.”
“That is folly,” Aunt Philippa’s expression hardened.
“Maybe it is. But I cannot help it.”
“Do you want to marry well?”
“I told you—”
“Yes, yes. You will only wed for love. But love is not enough. It never is. He will tire of you, and return to his old ways. He is tempestuous. Led by baser instincts.”
Gemma pressed her lips together tightly. “Aunt Philippa!” She shot to her feet. “I’m no longer hungry,” she whispered, and fled the room, leaving her aunt in the dining room alone.
Upstairs, Gemma picked up the astronomy book that Lord Blakemore had sent her. Opened it gingerly, carefully. And then she drew a gasp as she noticed a small inscription just inside the cover of the book. It was addressed to her.
Miss Hayesworth,
I pray that you find as much delight in this copy as you did once in your father’s.
Your obedient servant,
Dalton Blakemore
She’d never noticed it before when she had first received it. Now, she ran her fingertips over the dried ink, heart lodging in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes. How could someone so thoughtful be so notorious for thoughtlessness?
She sat down at her vanity and scribbled down a note for Lord Blakemore.
Lord Blakemore,
I must extend my deepest thanks for so generously sending over Mr. Gregory’s work. I may retreat from society for another week to read it in its entirety.
Sincere regards,
