Page 50 of The Baron's Reluctant Bride
"Not in this state," she hissed, guiding him toward a less trafficked corner. "You look as though you've been dragged behind a carriage."
"Such flattery," he quipped, though the jest fell flat. "I assure you, I'm perfectly well."
Before he could respond, a prickling sensation ran up her spine.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Thorne stood on the far side of the ballroom, half-obscured by a marble column and an overgrown potted fern. But his eyes were unmistakable, fixed on William like a hawk eyeing a rabbit. His expression was unreadable, save for the look of satisfaction that curved the corner of his mouth when Gemma met his gaze.
She turned back to her brother, stepping slightly in front of him as though by sheer force of will she could shield him from whatever storm was gathering.
"Gemma, what—" William began, but he, too, caught sight of Thorne. His jaw tensed.
"Is he the reason you're in this state?" she demanded in a low voice.
William's eyes darted around the room. "It's complicated, Gemma. I've... there've been some developments."
"Developments," she repeated flatly. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
And then came a voice like silk stretched too thin.
"My, what a charming reunion."
Gemma closed her eyes briefly, bracing herself.
It was Lady Viola Montford. The notorious gossip must have a vendetta against Gemma, she clearly delighted in showing up like a vulture whenever Gemma was in misfortune. From that night when she had seen Gemma with Jameson, to tonight.
She stood poised beside them, an ivory fan in one hand and a smile like a dagger on her lips. She wore peacock blue, of course—always something arresting, always something just a shade too dramatic.
"Gemma, your gown tonight is simply breathtaking," Viola said sweetly, eyes gleaming. "One would hardly guess it was rushed through the dressmaker's hands only a fortnight ago. Such haste is understandable, of course. New brides must make do."
Gemma summoned a smile she did not feel. "You are too kind, Miss Montford."
Viola's eyes flitted to William. "And Lord Sinclair, how refreshing to see you. We were beginning to suspect you'd grown averse to polite society. I do hope you haven't been unwell."
"Not at all," William replied with stiff civility. "I've simply been occupied."
"Indeed," Viola murmured, her gaze flicking once more to Gemma. "Well, let us hope your sister's matrimony has been more… grounded. It would be a shame if both Sinclairs were surrounded by whispers."
Gemma's smile held, but her nails bit into her gloves. She was painfully aware of the surrounding ears, of the glances from nearby matrons pretending not to listen.
"How thoughtful of you to concern yourself with our affairs," Gemma replied, her tone sweet enough to cause tooth decay. "Though I imagine you must have more pressing matters to attend to. Lady Hartington was asking after you just moments ago—something about a misplaced invitation to her daughter's coming-out ball?"
Viola's smile froze. "Was she indeed? How curious. I shall seek her out directly."
"Please do," Gemma nodded. "I wouldn't want you to miss such an important occasion due to... oversight."
With a final pointed look at William, Viola drifted away, trailing the scent of lilacs and thwarted malice. Gemma exhaled sharply, her hand still on William's sleeve.
"Come," she said quietly. "We're going to find somewhere private."
And for once, William did not argue. They made their way along the perimeter of the ballroom, Gemma nodding politely to acquaintances while maintaining a firm grip on her brother's arm. She guided him toward a small antechamber off the mainhall, typically used for ladies to refresh themselves between dances. At this hour, it stood empty save for a maid arranging hairpins on a silver tray.
"A moment, if you please," Gemma said to the girl, who curtsied and withdrew, closing the door behind her.
The moment they were alone, Gemma rounded on William.
"Now," she said, her voice tight with concern, "explain yourself. And pray do not insult my intelligence with further evasions."
