Page 14 of From Rakes to Riches

“No instrument could be indifferent to your charms, dear lady.” Guy inwardly cringed as the words came out of his mouth—had he ever said anything more absurd?

“You are very kind.” Gemma curtsied with the same grace she did everything else. “Thank you for attending us, Lord Guy. It was good of you.”

Politeness, nothing more in her words. What could Guy expect, when he was bumbling like a naive puppy?

Sonia gave him her soft-voiced farewells, studying Guy with intense interest.

“Good afternoon, Lord Guy.” Aunt Margot’s strident tones made it clear he was to leave the hall where he’d planted himself like a pole. “So good of you to call.”

His command to go. Yet Guy couldn’t help but loiter another moment, drinking in Gemma, her shining eyes, her lovely body wrapped in blue silk. When might he delight in her again?

He finally forced himself down the hall and out of the house, to be greeted by wind gusts so common to London. He settled his hat as a particularly strong gust threatened to dislodge it and strode his way toward South Audley Street, which would take him in the direction of home.

Guy had a choice—he could turn his back on Mrs. Cooke and this wonderful afternoon and embrace his bachelor existence wholeheartedly once more, or he could discover which invitations Mrs. Cooke had answered for the rest of the Season and find any excuse to be at those events himself.

A momentous decision indeed.

“Well, what do you think, Gemma?”Aunt Margot pressed a cup of chocolate to her lips and took a loud slurp.

Gemma and Aunt Margot sat alone in Margot’s private parlor, the windows dark with night, Sonia already in bed.

They’d attended the theatre this evening to take in a comedy by Shakespeare. The players on the stage had called to mind Guy in the doublet and breeches that had hugged his muscular body. Gemma had spent much time scanning the audience, seeking a glimpse of Guy and finding none. When Sonia had wished to discuss points of the play afterward, Gemma could remember little about it, including its title.

“About what, Auntie?” Gemma, her teacup suspended in motionless fingers, pulled herself away from her fantasies of Guy in his doublet and tight satin breeches.

“About Lord Guy Lovell, of course.”

A flush heated Gemma’s face before she could stop it. “Lord Guy?” She fumbled with her teacup and clattered it to the saucer. “I barely know him. I mean, I was introduced to him long ago, and he is a friend of the Duke of Ashford, but …”

“I was not inquiring about his acquaintances, my dear. I knowthose,and I can pry all I need to learn about him from the Duchess of Ashford.” Another slurp, Aunt Margot’s gray satin turban tilting dangerously forward. “No, I meant, what is your impression?”

“Oh.” Gemma hastily raised her cup again and gulped tea. She preferred it to chocolate in the evenings, liking nothing sweet after mid-day. “I— he’s— he is gallant, isn’t he? Witty, I suppose, though he rather laughs at himself at the same time.”

“Mmm.” Was Aunt Margot watching her too closely? Knowing Gemma had spent all evening daydreaming about every word, every touch Lord Guy had given her as they’d played the pianoforte together? Not to mention last night’s kiss?

“He is a perfectly fine gentleman,” Gemma concluded. She could say this without sounding like a swooning girl. Couldn’t she?

Aunt Margot peered at her in consternation. “I meant for Sonia. As a suitor. Do you think he will do for her?”

5

Gemma dropped her teacup. It clattered to the saucer, which also slid from Gemma’s hands, both falling to the wrapper she’d donned after laying aside her theater finery. Tea splashed the wrapper and part of the carpet before the cup and saucer broke with a muffled crash.

“Oh, dear.” Gemma started out of her chair. “I am so sorry, Aunt Margot. I have no idea why I am so clumsy.”

“Never mind, Gemma. It is of no matter.”

Aunt Margot’s highly efficient lady’s maid and an upstairs maid had scurried in at the sound of the upset in Aunt Margot’s sitting room. They had the broken cup and spilled tea cleaned up almost before the sound of the breaking porcelain had faded. Without a word, they sped out of the room once more, closing the door noiselessly behind them.

“More tea?” Aunt Margot calmly reached for the teapot and the extra cup placed on the tray for just such a mishap.

“No, thank you. I have taken far too much already today.” Gemma, who’d resumed her seat as the maids disposed of the mess, folded her hands in her lap to keep from fluttering them.Her wrapper had sustained only a few stains near its hem, not enough for Gemma to go in search of another.

“In that case, have you an answer to my question? What do you think of Lord Guy as a match for Sonia?”

“Good heavens, no,” Gemma said at once.

Aunt Margot’s brows arched over her cup at Gemma’s adamant and decisive answer. A minute amount of chocolate clung to her upper lip.

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