Page 30 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
“Oh, do calm yourself, Martha,” the Dowager Duchess sighed. “You'll burst a blood vessel.” She looked over at Gemma. “You shall have to excuse her, my dear. She has always had a flair for the dramatic.”
The Duchess's face turned crimson. “Might I remind you that our family's good standing is at stake? Or have you forgotten? As for what poor Miss Henford must think of us, I cannot even begin to imagine.” She shook her head. “Someone has to attempt to clean up the mess.” She picked her fork back up and jabbed it in the Duke's direction. “And if this drunkard's daughter is now your wife, the least she can do is be on her best behavior!”
Gemma gritted her teeth, forcing down an angry retort. Letting her fury loose at her first meal at Larsen Manor would only prove the Duchess right about her lack of etiquette. She bit into her toast to stifle the urge to speak.
There is no way I am going to prove her right aboutanything.
The Dowager Duchess was right about one thing: the library at Larsen Manor was simply spectacular.
Yesterday, after their ill-fated breakfast, Gemma's mother-in-law had taken her aside and given her a strict talking-to about the manner of speech that was appropriate for a duchess, and a patronizing blow-by-blow rundown of each member of the household staff, and the tasks they were responsible for. Gemma had never been so humiliated in her life.
Moments after she had escaped to the safety of her bedchamber, thanking the heavens that she had managed not to cry, theDowager Duchess had appeared at her door to take her on the promised tour of the gardens and house.
As though sensing the anger and frustration roiling inside her, the old woman had led her out into the garden and through a maze of fragrant roses, then into the densely wooded section at the back of the property. With the warm breeze on her cheeks and the sun streaking through the gaps in the branches, Gemma felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. and the tears that refused to leave her finally sink back beneath the surface.
“You mustn't take Martha's comments to heart,”the Dowager Duchess had told her, walking among the trees with her arm looped through Gemma's.
Gemma let out a humorless laugh.“It is a little difficult not to. She has made it achingly clear how unwelcome I am in this house.”
The old woman put a soft hand to Gemma's arm.“You are not unwelcome here at all, my dear. I, for one, am very pleased to have you.”
I am sure you are…Gemma had thought. But she did not say it. In spite of her meddling, she could not help but like the Dowager Duchess. She had always been warm to her whenever she visited Gemma's own grandmother. And the kindness she was showing her now, in these trying first days at Larsen Manor, felt like the air she needed to breathe.
“I can tell the staff like you very much too,”she continued.“And as for my grandson, well…”She faded out, a tiny smile on the edge of her lips.
Well, what…?Gemma wanted to demand. But she could not do so. She could not give any inkling of how often thoughts of her new husband were occupying her mind.
“Well,”the Dowager Duchess said again, picking up the thread,“perhaps you will have a happier marriage than you might have imagined.”
Gemma shook her head.“I do not see how that can happen.”
The Dowager Duchess just offered her a smile and led her back into the house. She guided her through the grand entrance hall and past the parlor, into a room at the back of the house.
Suddenly forgetting her surliness, Gemma let out a gasp. The library was filled with books from floor to ceiling, the shelves broken only by the enormous window that let sunlight pour in and made the dust motes sparkle. And perhaps this, she thought, was the one thing that could make her marriage bearable.
So it was here to the library she had escaped that morning, after another funereal breakfast with her new family. Another night lying sleepless in bed, longing for her husband's touch, and dreading it at the same time.
That morning, the Duchess had not been able to resist a jab at Gemma's wardrobe. Had suggested to her son that he send his wife to a seamstress who would create her some new outfits“befitting her new and unfortunate station.”
Gemma was trying her best to do as the Dowager Duchess had suggested, and not take the Duchess's comments to heart. But that was a difficult thing to do when they were so blatantly intended to cut her down.
And so for now, she planned to gather as many books as she could and disappear upstairs to the safety of her bedchamber. Lose herself for a few blissful hours in a world far away from this one.
Gemma trailed a finger along the spines as she made her way from shelf to shelf, dimly aware of a faint smile on her lips. The first genuine smile she had managed since she had set foot in Larsen Manor. The collection was astonishing. Books that looked to be at least a hundred years old shared space with the newest novels and poetry anthologies. Stories and reference books on every topic, from Ancient Greece to astronomy, from gardening to Baroque composers. Enough to keep her entertained for years.
A family collection, the Dowager Duchess had told her.“And you, of course, must use it—and add to it—as you wish.”
Gemma's gaze drifted upward to the shelves high above the mantel. And for a moment, her breath left her. Her eyes widened. Tucked in innocently between a Latin textbook and a copy ofRobinson Crusoewas a book by an author known only as Wilde Rose.Captain Midnight.The title glimmered out at her in brassy gold writing. Gemma had never read the author's work. But she knew well what it entailed.
Wilde Rose's work had been banned for a number of years—she could only imagine how there had come to be a copy in Larsen Manor. She had heard stories about her books—about the sensual and scandalous scenes they portrayed. Her friends had whispered about them behind their hands and giggled, red-cheeked. Had tried many times to get their hands on a copy—always unsuccessfully. Gemma had done her best to pretend she was not interested in such filth. And indeed, back then, her interest truly had been minimal. But she could not deny that,right now, her gaze was drawn upwards toward cursedCaptain Midnight.
The morning she had awoken in bed beside him, the Duke had stirred something within her that had long been dormant. Something she knew little of. And something she was sure Wilde Rose's books could enlighten her of.
No. That is the last thing you need…
If she was to succeed in staying away from her husband, she needed to tamp down her desire for him. Not stoke it through sordid and filthy literature!
Besides, she could not imagine the shame if anyone from the house caught her in possession of such a thing!
