Page 49 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
“Make inquiries,” the Dowager Duchess repeated with a laugh. “Oh Martha, could you be more ridiculous? You really have outdone yourself this time.”
Wyatt made a sudden grab for Gemma's hand and tugged her with him out of the room. Not releasing his grip on her fingers, he led her downstairs and into the safety of the parlor. He sank back against the closed door. “Good Lord,” he said. “Sometimes I have no thought of what I am to do with the two of them.”
Gemma smiled faintly. Wyatt stepped close and pressed his warm palm to her cheek. “I am so sorry.”
Gemma felt her tears threatening again—this time for a completely different reason. She blinked, two tears escaping down her cheeks. She let them fall unhindered onto her collar. “You believed me.”
Gemma knew that, a few weeks ago, if such a thing had happened, she would have gone flying out into the night on a desperate rampage to find whoever was spreading such lies about her. And while yes, she hated the thought of being the subject of such sordid gossip, it paled in significance to the fact that Wyatt had believed her without question.
“Of course, I believed you,” he said, brushing her tears away with his thumb. “I know you. You would never do something like that. You have far too much decency.”
I know you. How had they reached this place? This place of knowing each other. Trusting each other…
A few weeks ago, when she had awoken to find Wyatt in her bed, the thought of them trusting one another had seemed completely unfathomable. As would the prospect of these feelings that now arose at the sight of him. Yes, Gemma had to admit her heart had always beat a little faster in his presence, but she had always assumed it was little more than a physical attraction. Though she knew it was dangerous to admit such things, even to herself, she could no longer deny that things had gone much further than that.
Impulsively, Gemma pulled Wyatt toward her and pressed her lips into his. Warmth blossomed in her chest as she pulled him close. Was this what it felt like to be in love?
How have I let this happen?Suddenly, she had to know. Had to know if he too felt this way. After all, there was every chance she was being unfathomably foolish, and Wyatt was counting down the days until he could pack her off to his country estate. And if that was the case, she needed to know now, before she lost her heart to him entirely.
“Wyatt,” she said. “I?—”
A knock at the door silenced her. “Pardon me, Your Graces.” Fielding poked his head into the parlor. “Lord Anderson for you, sir.”
Wyatt nodded. “Show him in.” He looked back at Gemma and squeezed her fingers. “What were you going to say?”
Gemma shook her head. “Nothing.” Had she been about to confess her feelings? Perhaps even tell him she loved him? Surely, surely, that would have been a mistake. Once her emotions had settled after this most tumultuous of days, she knew she would see that with clarity. Because this, after all, was nothing but a marriage of convenience. It was about nothing more than securing the Duke of Larsen an heir.
She offered a smile to Lord Anderson as he entered, suddenly very glad he had arrived at the moment he had.
Wyatt found himself staring at the closed door Gemma had just disappeared through.
“Larsen?”
He realized Jonah had been speaking to him. “Huh? What?”
Jonah grinned. “I said, you and Lady Highbrow seem to be getting on well. I could have sworn I even saw her smile.”
Wyatt said nothing. He realized he did not want to speak to Jonah about Gemma. His friend would make a joke of it or press him for sordid information like they had always done with each other's conquests. Somehow, Jonah failed to see what Wyatt was becoming more and more aware of with each passing day: that Gemma was different. In every way possible.
But Jonah was right about one thing: Gemma had been smiling. Strange that she might do such a thing given all the lies that had just been spread about her. Wyatt was glad he had been able to console her enough to elicit a smile.
Jonah clapped him over the shoulder. “Come on, Larsen. Don't tell me you're going to close up on me now? Not now you've managed to get Lady Highbrow into bed. You did, didn't you? How on earth did you manage?—”
“Enough,” Wyatt barked. “That's mywife, you're talking about, Anderson.”
Jonah raised his eyebrows and stepped back in surprise. “All right, old man. Calm yourself.” Wyatt regretted his outburst. But he was not going to apologize. He knew the comment had been long overdue. Instead, he went to the liquor cabinet and took out two glasses. He filled them with brandy and handed one to his friend.
Jonah sank into an armchair, accepting the glass with a nod. “So. I assume a night on the town is out of the question?” A little of the cockiness was gone from his voice.
Wyatt sipped his brandy. “You assumed correctly.” His tone left no room for argument.
Jonah was silent for a few moments. He turned the brandy glass around in his hand, as though considering the contents. “You care about her then.”
“Yes,” Wyatt admitted. “I do.” Of course, he cared about Gemma. He was dimly aware that he always had, ever since the moment they had woken up in such a compromising position at the Henfords' party. Beneath his cocky bravado, he had always wanted to keep her safe from scrutiny, to prevent her from being shamed any further than necessary.
But now, he had to admit it was beginning to go further than that. The way he felt about Gemma when he was holding her inhis arms, making love to her, he knew it went far beyond mere affection. Somehow, Gemma had found her way into his heart.
Not that he could ever admit such a thing. He knew Gemma had never wanted a husband, and he had promised her that once she had provided him with an heir, he would give her the freedom she craved. If he allowed these feelings he had for her to turn into anything at all, giving her up would be nearly impossible.
