Page 55 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
“Goodness,” she breathed, “I must look a disaster.”
Wyatt grinned. He picked up one of her fallen combs from the floor and handed it to her. Gemma rushed over to the mirror above the dressing table to examine the damage. Her hair was not quite the bird's nest she had feared, but it certainly was not in the pristine state it had been when she had left Ivy. She shoved the comb back into her carefully crafted curls, doing her best to tidy them.
Wyatt stood behind her in the mirror, kissing her neck. “You look perfect.”
Gemma laughed. “I look like I have just been ravaged by my husband.”
He grinned. “Yes. And that's why you look perfect.”
Gemma's heart swelled and she turned her head to kiss his lips. She knew deep within her that Wyatt had been about to tell her he loved her. All the doubts she had had about the way he felt about her had melted away. A part of her cursed the Duchess for the interruption, but Gemma knew there would be plenty of time for she and her husband to tell each other how they truly felt. After all, tonight, they would fall asleep in each other's arms. And every night after that. Gemma knew Wyatt would speak those three words to her—three words that would change everything. Perhaps she would also find the courage to tell him she loved him too. She was tired of denying it.
“Are you ready?” asked Wyatt.
Gemma drew in a breath and straightened her shoulders.
Whatever will be, will be. Let it come. We will handle it together.
She gripped her husband's hand and gave it a squeeze. “I am ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The faint hum of voices coming from the entrance hall told Wyatt he had not been the most attentive of hosts. He had not hosted a ball before, but he was fairly certain that being in attendance when the first guests arrived was Rule Number One.
But at the sight of Gemma in her new gown, with that pale blue silk skimming over her every curve, had been completely unable to help himself. He was not sure he had ever been so overcome by passion and need—but then again, he had never felt about anyone the way he felt about Gemma. It was something Wyatt was only beginning to admit to—both to himself and his wife. But something he knew needed to be said.
He had had no idea that Gemma saw his offer to send her to Devon as a means of sending her away. If only she knew how much the thought of her leaving had tortured him over the past weeks.
That is something you will have to tell her too.
Wyatt smiled to himself as he and Gemma descended the staircase, her hand looped through his arm. He knew the two of them had much to learn about being husband and wife. But they would have the rest of their lives to figure it out.
At the bottom of the staircase, his mother was welcoming guests with a smile on her face that looked far too broad. She shot Gemma and Wyatt a look as they made their way into the foyer. “About time,” she mouthed.
Wyatt turned away, ignoring her.
“Ah. Your Graces. I was wondering when you were going to show yourselves.” The voice made the muscles in Wyatt's shoulders tighten. Henrietta Henford's words were light and playful, but he could sense the venom beneath.
Henrietta was standing in the foyer with her parents and brother, a smile plastered to her face that looked as fake as his mother's. Though she was dressed in a pale pink, flower-trimmed gown that ought to have been height of innocence, something about her made him distinctly uneasy. For not the first time, Wyatt sent a silent thanks to the fates—and his grandmother—that he had escaped a life at Henrietta Henford's side.
As Wyatt and Gemma approached, Henrietta dropped into an over-the-top curtsey, then looked back up at them with fire in her eyes. Wyatt had the distinct impression that his mother had planted the Henfords at the bottom of the staircase so they would be the first guests he and Gemma encountered.
Wyatt nodded in greeting, doing his best to ignore her piercing glare. “Miss Henford.” He offered his hand to her brother and father, who both shook reluctantly. “Thank you all for coming.”
“Indeed,” Gemma spoke up. “I know the circumstances do not make for the most comfortable of evenings for you all. But I am very pleased you have come, so we might put the past behind us.”
Wyatt felt a sudden swell of affection for his wife. The anxiety and uncertainty he had seen from Gemma throughout the week was gone; in its place, a radiant confidence he was not sure he had ever seen from her before.
That's not true. I have seen that confidence. But in the past, it was used to put me in my place.He hid a private smile at the memory.
Henrietta tilted her head, taking Gemma in. Her gaze slid up and down his wife's body, as though scrutinizing her from head to toe. “Put the past behind us,” she repeated. “I see.”
Henrietta's father put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on now, my dear. We have discussed this. You agreed?—”
Henrietta shot her father a glare that silenced him. Then she turned and pinned her fierce eyes back on Gemma. Wyatt saw Gemma swallow, but she held Henrietta's gaze. Surreptitiously, he covered her hand with his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He had not forgotten the threats Henrietta had made against the Volks on the day of the wedding. He was sure Gemma hadn't either.
“I am truly sorry things worked out for you the way they did,” Gemma told Henrietta. “I cannot change what has happened. But I do wish you every happiness.” She offered her a small smile. “Perhaps tonight you will even meet a gentleman who will make you happy into the future.”
With unnatural speed, Henrietta's glare gave way to a syrupy smile. “Yes,” she said. “Perhaps you are right.” Her eyes narrowed on Gemma. “Your Grace.”
