Page 42 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
Gemma snapped out of her reverie. “Yes, of course. I shall leave you to?—”
“But I wondered if perhaps I might take you out tonight? To the theater perhaps? My family has a box at the Theatre Royal.”
For a moment, something bloomed unbidden in Gemma's chest. She loved the theater, and in truth, it had been many years since her family had had the money to fund such a night out. Certainly, she had never seen a show from a box at Drury Lane. She opened her mouth to accept Wyatt's invitation, then stopped abruptly.
There were so many reasons why she could not attend the theater with him. Not least the fear that such a kind gesture might push her to break her rule about growing close to him. But this she had no intention of sharing with him.
“I do not think that is the best idea,” she said. “It has been barely a week since our wedding. Thetonwill go mad if they see us out together. I do not wish to be the source of any gossip.” Sheshook her head. “Or rather, anymoregossip than we have been already.”
Something that looked close to disappointment flickered across Wyatt's eyes, but he blinked it away quickly. “Yes. Of course. You're right, I am sure.” He gave her a stilted smile. “Well. In that case, I will see you this evening at dinner.”
Gemma watched from the landing as he disappeared up the stairs to his office, unable to make sense of the dull ache taking root inside her chest.
Chapter Nineteen
Wyatt supposed she was right. No doubt thetonwould relish seeing the two of them together in public. Tongues would be set wagging that would not be silenced for weeks. But there was hardly anything indecent about taking his wife to the theater.
Does she intend for us to hide away at home for the rest of our lives?
Surely allowing themselves to be seen in public was the way forward. There would initially be gossip, he had no doubt. But it would eventually die down, just like it always did. Nonetheless, he understood Gemma's reluctance. But he could not deny it frustrated him. In fact, there were many things about his wife that frustrated him. Many things he struggled to understand.
Such as that look of hurt in her eyes when he had apologized for not returning to her bedchamber last night. What was he to make of it when her words said one thing, but her expression said something completely different?
Hell, it had been so much easier when his dealings with women had involved crawling into their bed at midnight and then leaving before sunrise.
But none of those encounters had ever brought him as much satisfaction—and as much pleasure—as his night with Gemma had.
He was overthinking things, surely. The thing to be taken from all this was that Gemma had finally allowed him into her bed, and now there was a chance she might carry his child. The chance that he might not die without an heir after all, as he had come to fear would be the case.
But was last night just a one-time event for her? Despite the passion that had engulfed her while she was in his arms, the moment they had finished, her cold exterior had fallen back into place. The walls he had spent all week chipping away at had so quickly been rebuilt.
Wyatt knew the chances of her finding herself with child after just a single night with him were slim. Would she be willing to accept her wifely duties on a regular basis?
Wifely duties…He hated how formal it sounded. And there had been nothing dutiful in the slightest about what he and Gemma had shared last night. Nonetheless, he had to remember that securing an heir was the most important thing, he reminded himself. After all, it was the only reason he had agreed to marry in the first place—albeit to Henrietta Henford. Securing an heir was what he had to focus on. And what he had to get Gemma to agree to. Somehow.
Wyatt let himself into his office and sank into his high-backed leather desk chair. His account books were piled up on the table,ready for his inspection today, but his mind was racing too quickly to focus on sums right now.
The consummation of their marriage presented no small opportunity. Wyatt needed an heir from Gemma, and he needed one soon. After all, his father had passed away when he was just a few years older than Wyatt was now. There was every chance he might succumb to the same early death.
But Wyatt was acutely aware of how much Gemma did not want to be considered as merely a means of securing her husband a child.
“Why should I wish to spend my life as nothing but a means for a gentleman to produce an heir? Am I not worth more than that?”
And yes, he acknowledged, shewasworth more than that. Somehow, he would see to it that Gemma gave him what he wanted—needed. But he would also make sure she got everything she desired in return. Wyatt drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk, thoughts churning. He was certain the accounts were going to be utterly ignored today.
When Gemma stepped into the dining room that evening, she stopped in surprise to see just two places set at the table. A tall candelabra sat in the middle of the table, casting a gentle glow across the room.
“Where are your mother and grandmother?” she asked, hovering in the doorway. She had dressed up a little for dinner, he noticed, having discarded the mud-colored dress for a softpink gown. With a pang, Wyatt realized she had been wearing the very same dress the morning they had woken up in bed together. Was she unaware of it? Or was she trying to tempt him?
If she was, it was working. He took a sip of wine and forced himself to focus. “I've requested that they dine upstairs tonight,” he told Gemma. “I thought you and I would benefit from some time alone together.” She looked uncertain, still standing in the doorway. Wyatt gestured to the chair opposite his. “Please.”
Finally, she stepped inside the dining room. One of the servants, who had been patiently waiting for her to enter, pulled back Gemma's chair, allowing her to sit. Another filled her glass with red wine.
Gemma took a tiny sip, then looked up at him with her wide blue eyes. Eyes, Wyatt noted, that held not a small amount of suspicion.
I suppose I deserve that. Given I broke my promise about not going out less than a day after making it…For not the first time, he cursed Jonah Anderson’s name.
“What is it you would like to speak of?” Gemma asked finally. “Wyatt?”
