Page 38 of The Baron's Reluctant Bride
"The Hartington ball!" Helena exclaimed, genuine excitement illuminating her features. "How wonderful! It is among the most prestigious events of the Season. Your first major appearance as Lady Brokeshire will be observed most carefully."
Gemma suppressed a sigh. "Yes, I am well aware of society's unquenchable thirst for prying and scandal.”
"It is more than mere gossip, Gemma," Helena chided gently. "It is about cementing your position, establishing connections that will benefit both your new family and our own."
Ah yes, the true purpose of a society matrimonial union laid bare, Gemma thought with carefully concealed cynicism.How romantic.
"I shall endeavor not to trip over my hem or spill punch down the Dowager Countess's décolletage," she promised with a hint of the wry humor she normally reserved for William.
"Gemma!" her mother exclaimed, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "Such impertinence. I begin to wonder if Lord Brokeshire's reputation is rubbing off on you already."
"Heaven forbid," Gemma murmured, though the thought sent an inexplicable thrill through her that had no business existing in a proper young lady's breast.
The conversation turned to the practicalities of Gemma's wardrobe for upcoming events, with Helena insisting that new gowns would be required to reflect her elevated status. As her mother detailed the latest fashions from Paris with unusual animation, Gemma found her thoughts drifting once again to the upcoming ride with Jameson, wondering what version of her husband would accompany her to the park—the charming raconteur of breakfast, the intense, almost vulnerable man fromthe library, or the distant, formal baron who had so swiftly retreated behind his walls.
Perhaps, she mused,that is the true challenge of matrimonial life, discovering which face is the mask, and which the genuine article. Though I begin to suspect that with Lord Brokeshire, the answer may be far more complicated than I initially believed.
