Page 15 of From Rakes to Riches

“Though you say he is a perfectly fine gentleman? Gallant? Witty? He also has quite a fortune, I hear.”

“He is far too worldly.” Gemma could declare this without the least dissemblance. “Sonia needs someone nearer her own age and experience.”

“But she does not need a young fool.” Aunt Margot slid a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her mouth clean. “An older man who knows something of life is a good choice for a young woman. Young ladies are so sheltered, they might blunder without guidance.”

“Even so.” Gemma was sorry she hadn’t asked for more tea, wanting to give her hands something to do. “Lord Guy is a bit too old for her.”

“May I remind you that your first husband was forty years your senior?”

“My first marriage was arranged by my well-meaning parents. They knew I’d be looked after.” Gemma slid her hands into the voluminous pockets of the wrapper where she could hide her balling fists. Her father must have known he and her mother would not live past the first years of Gemma’s marriage, making certain she was married to a very wealthy man who asked very little of Gemma in return.

“John was nearly twenty years older,” Aunt Margot went on.

“Yes.” Gemma closed her lips before she burst out that her second marriage had been different. John Broadbent and shehad been good friends in spite of her twenty years to his thirty-eight.

“A large difference in ages is not uncommon,” Aunt Margot said. “I would not like to see my nephew’s daughter paired with a young fop who runs through her dowry because he wants new boots every week. Lord Guy would do no such thing.”

Gemma imagined Guy’s comical disparagement of such a fellow and couldn’t curb her smile. “Perhaps not. But I would like Sonia to choose. She should not be foisted off on a gentlemanwedecide is good for her. Her happiness is important to me.”

Aunt Margot set down her cup and scrutinized Gemma with wise eyes. “Tell me, Gemma. Was your first marriage happy?”

“It was notunhappy,” Gemma admitted. Hugh Pitts, her first husband, had been kind in his own way, though Gemma had felt very much like his granddaughter and not his wife. He’d had no interest in the bedroom and had said so the first night, much to young Gemma’s relief. “I was more his companion than anything else. Read to him on his sickbed and made certain he wanted for nothing.”

“Do not worry. I have no intention of pairing Sonia with an elderly gentleman in need of a nursemaid. I am merely making a point. Now, your second marriage. Happy or unhappy?”

“Happy.” No need to think it through before she answered. John Broadbent had been congenial, learned but not supercilious, and he’d had much common sense. He’d preferred to sit by the fire and read most nights, with Gemma and her needlework near. Other young ladies might have found life with John dull, but Gemma had been content. She’d found a dear friend in Sonia, who was only eight years her junior, as well as a friend and mother figure in Aunt Margot.

“Yes, my nephew was a sensible man. A credit to his father.” Aunt Margot spoke warmly. “Now, your third marriage. Happy or unhappy?”

Gemma grimaced, a dart of pain in her heart. “You know I was miserable. Mr. Cooke turned my head, and I made a terrible mistake. You warned me, and I was heedless, to my regret.”

“Exactly.” Aunt Margot gave her a decided nod. “Your first two marriages were made with the guidance of family.” Aunt Margot had had a hand in bringing John and Gemma together. “Your last, on your own whim. Therefore, you and I plotting Sonia’s future is not a cruel or strange thing to do. I have every intention of soliciting her opinion in the matter as well, but we should not let her rush off with the first handsome gentleman who quickens her heartbeat.”

“I agree.” Gemma’s heart had banged furiously all afternoon, and did so at every thought of Guy. “Which brings me back to my assessment of Lord Guy. I stand by my conviction that he is too worldly. He would want to rush about to his club, the opera, fancy-dress balls, and racing meets with his friends rather than sit down to tame meals at home. He might break Sonia’s heart.”

“Possibly.” Aunt Margot watched Gemma rather too closely. “He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, however. As does Sonia.”

“That is no certainty they will rub along well together.” Gemma tried to speak without a quaver. “Sonia barely noticed him today, and not at all at the ball last night.”

“True, but she was surrounded by too many young fellows both at the ball and in our drawing room. Perhaps we should make certain we meet Lord Guy at the theatre or musicales or wherever he can be found. Let Sonia come to know him and make up her own mind.”

Gemma did not answer. She recalled how she’d scoured the theatre’s audience tonight, hoping Lord Guy would be inattendance, and her acute disappointment when she’d seen no sign of him. Aunt Margot’s scheme would assure that Gemma would be in proximity to Lord Guy often, perhaps near enough to discuss an opera with him, or to seize his arm in an exciting moment at Ascot, or dance with him at a supper ball.

The purpose of these meetings would be for Guy and Sonia to become better acquainted, Gemma reminded herself with force. Not for Gemma to enjoy his company.

“The Duchess of Ashford,” Aunt Margot said abruptly. Gemma jerked her attention from the enticing vision of hanging on Guy’s arm as they strolled the exhibits at Egyptian House. “Helena. I know she adores making a match, and I know the two of you are good friends. Ask her to arrange an outing with Lord Guy, whether with us or somewhere we can chance upon him. Yes, that will do nicely.”

Gemma’s heart sank. Helena did indeed enjoy matchmaking. If she believed Guy and Sonia should be wed, she’d drive them together with the force of a galloping steed.

However, if Gemma demurred from recruiting Helena’s help, Aunt Margot would demand to know why. Aunt Margot would poke until she pried the lid from Gemma’s box of emotions, revealing that she’d already formed a passion for Lord Guy herself.

That would never do. As Helena was to matchmaking, Aunt Margot was for arranging people’s lives. Aunt Margot had done everything she could to dissuade Gemma from marrying Rupert Cooke. In the end, she’d sighed and wished Gemma the best, and then had been the first at Gemma’s side to comfort her when Rupert had died in a tragic farce.

Gemma did not want to disappoint Aunt Margot again when this was only a case of girlish silliness.

“Very well.” Gemma removed her hands from her pockets and smoothed out the dressing gown. “I will seek Helena’s advice.”

“Excellent. Just the thing.” Aunt Margot beamed at her, lifted her cup of chocolate, and took a satisfied gulp.

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