Page 61 of Her Notorious Rake
“You need your rest, Mother,” Dalton smiled, leaning down to kiss her. “But you are here with us now. That is all that truly matters.”
Mother nodded with a little sigh. “Yes, yes. When did you become so wise?” She patted his cheek.
Turning, Mother beckoned Gemma over. The younger woman approached, lowering her eyes to the ground shyly. Mother grasped her hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “My dear girl. You have made my boy so very happy.”
“As he has made me,” Gemma replied, ducking her head.
“I should like to bequeath my wedding gift to you, the most happy couple, before the rest arrive. You shall find it in the study.”
Dalton grasped Gemma’s hand and led her towards the quiet study his father had once loved so much, with its shelves of books that were just a small portion of his larger library upstairs. Within the study, a beautiful telescope stood, glistening in the candlelight. Gemma let out a gasp, grasping Dalton’s arm.
“It’s wonderful!” she cried out, shaking her head, covering her mouth. “Isn’t it, Dalton?”
Dalton joined her in examining the device, trying out the viewfinder first. It truly was a beautiful instrument, with wrought gold covering it in intricate, swirling designs. It had to cost a pretty penny. When they returned downstairs to rejoin Mother in the drawing room, she smiled. “I’ve put aside quite a bit, and I decided what better way to spend it than on my son and daughter.”
“It’s too much,” Gemma whispered, her voice choked. Dalton’s heart squeezed as he tightened his arm looped in hers.
“No, nothing is too much for the lady who brought my sonjoy. Nothing.”
Dalton’s eyes stung and he strode over to the fire to poke at it, hoping no one noticed his sudden rush of emotion.
Not long after, the guests began to arrive, filtering in slowly until the entirety of the small party clustered in the Blakemore drawing room. Across the room, Theodore entered with Celeste on his arm. It had not been until the whole ordeal with Ernest that he’d first met Celeste, since he tended to refrain from London social life. Ever since, their burgeoning fondness for one another became clear, and Dalton enjoyed watching them fall for one another. Just the night before, Theodore had pulled him aside and confessed his feelings for Celeste.
“I wish you and my cousin every happiness,” Dalton toldhim, grinning.
“Yes?” Theodore had sounded breathless. “Thank heavens. I feared you would find it utterly strange, my affinity for the girl. But I am deeply enamored. And I am quite thankful that you met Gemma when you did. Otherwise, I might have died a confirmed bachelor.”
“Strange? How could I find it strange? I find it wondrous, and you, of everyone I know, deserve such happiness.”
Now, he watched the two chat together in a corner of the drawing room, at the window that overlooked the twilit garden. Fighting a smile, he turned to toast his bride. Calling upon everyone, he urged them to lift their glasses.
***
Later still, dancing began, and those able found a dance partner. Gemma’s heart fluttered as Dalton claimed her hand and led her to the center of the floor, where the other pairs joined them. Among those pairs, Gemma noticed Lord Neville with Prudence’s hand in his. She couldn’t stifle the smile that rose to her face, and watched as they turned to face one another, clearly drawn to the other. Prudence blushed, lowering her gaze from Lord Neville’s, and Gemma could see how much he admired her. It was evident that a sweet little romance would bloom between them.
And Gemma could think of no better pair than the two of them. Prudence deserved a kindly fellow like Lord Neville, and Prudence was true-hearted, sweet, agreeable, and Lord Neville would be utterly smitten.
Theodore, Dalton’s close friend, gazed at Celeste, unable to conceal his regard for her. Dalton had told Gemma just this morning of what Theodore brought up last evening. And Gemma couldn’t say that she was surprised. Over the past month of courting Dalton and planning this wedding, she’dwatched Theodore and Celeste fall for one another. Every time they danced, something sparked, reminding Gemma of her own dances with Dalton.
The music swelled and the dance began, and Gemma stared in awe at the man who mirrored her every step, who joined her in the center of the aisle, his hands engulfing hers. His eyes crinkled with a soft smile as he circled with her. His mouth parted slightly, as if with a gasp, as she stepped closer, and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.
The rest of the room drifted away into the ether, and her heart leapt as he guided her across the floor. She was hardly the same girl she’d been when she arrived in London. Wide-eyed, unsure of herself or what she wanted. And now…she knew exactly where she wanted to be. Who she wanted to be. And who she wanted to be with.
As the dance concluded, she and Dalton left the floor to rest and greet more of the guests. Lord Neville’s sister attended, as well as several friends of Adelaide’s and Philippa’s. Otherwise it was an intimate gathering. Aunt Philippa joined Gemma at the punch table, sipping on a glass of Madeira.
“I will be the first to confess when I’ve been in the wrong,” she began. “I do see how I was rash to cast aspersions upon Lord Blakemore.”
“Thank you, Aunt Philippa. For everything you’ve done. I do believe that Lord Neville and Prudence are to wed before midsummer.”
Aunt Philippa laughed softly behind her fan. “So I can see.”
“Prudence is very fond of him. And he fancies her, I think.”
“Oh yes. They’ll be wed by midsummer,” Aunt Philippa chuckled. “If not before.”
“Do you and your husband mean to make me a grandmother very soon?” Mama approached them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Aunt Philippa.
“Mama!” Gemma cried.
