Page 71 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
Wyatt kissed her hair. And then he stifled a yawn. Gemma looked up at him with mock indignance. “Thatis your reaction to me telling you I love you? A yawn?”
He chuckled. “Forgive me.”
Gemma traced her thumb over his cheek, dark and rough with morning stubble. “You did not sleep last night either, did you.”
“Very little,” Wyatt admitted.
“My father's creditors,” said Gemma. “How did you find them?”
Wyatt gave her a slight smile. “Well. It's like you said. I'm no stranger to the gambling tables either. After the ball, I went out to White's and began asking around. Eventually I found the right people.”
Gemma wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly.To think I was angry with him for not sending word of apology last night. Instead, he was running around London in the early hours to clear my father's debts.
“Thank you,” she said, hoping the look in her eyes conveyed the ocean of gratitude she felt toward him.
Wyatt nodded. He bent his head to capture her lips with his, drawing her into a kiss that was once both deep and gentle. “I never want to fight like this again,” he said.
Gemma grinned. “Oh, we will fight, my dear husband. You know we will. Because you are one of the most cocky and arrogant rakes in theton. And I am your fierce and feisty wife.” She felt a violent swell of love for him and pulled him into another impulsive kiss. “And then we will make up and show each other just how much we love each other.”
“Well,” said Wyatt, his lips tracing a line down her neck. “That I believe I can live with.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wyatt followed Gemma up the staircase to the top floor of Volk House. He found his eyes drifting around his wife's family home. Evidence of Lord Volk's financial problems was everywhere; in the chipped and discolored paint on the walls and the cracked window at the end of the passage. In the hallways so empty of servants, and the simple, flavorless biscuits the maid had served him and Gemma in the drawing room. Walking through this house gave him a better appreciation for his wife than he had ever had. Surely, growing up as the Earl of Volk's daughter had not been easy in many ways. And yet look how confident and strong the experience had made Gemma.
I love her. Saying the words had been far easier than he had ever imagined. Indeed, right now, it felt as though he could nevernotsay them again. But at that moment, as he had murmured those three words to his wife, he had felt intensely vulnerable. Because if Gemma had not returned his declaration of love; if she had told him his distrust had ruined what they had had; if she had demanded to be sent to Devon once their son arrived, he did not know if he would have survived it. When she had told him sheloved him too, Wyatt had felt as though his heart might explode with happiness.
Why did I ever fear falling in love?Every scrap of pain it brought was far outweighed by the joy of it.
As she made her way up the stairs, Gemma tugged awkwardly at the day dress she had changed into. The pale green dress was snug around her shoulders, and slightly too short. Wyatt guessed it belonged to one of her sisters. He smiled to himself. Even in a poorly fitting dress with a look of irritation on her face, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.
Gemma knocked tentatively on her father's bedroom door. “The physician is still with him,” the Earl's valet told them when he answered.
“Your Graces,” a voice called from inside the room. “Please come in.” Lord Volk sounded husky, but there was definitely a warmth to his words. Wyatt saw a smile appear on Gemma's lips. She hurried into the room.
Lord Volk was sitting up in bed, in his nightshirt, an old Spencer jacket draped over his shoulders. He looked pale and tired, but there was a smile on his face. Beside him, the physician was taking several small vials from his bag and lining them up on the Earl's bedside table.
“Father,” Gemma gushed, rushing forward to take his hand. “How are you feeling? You look much better this morning.”
“Indeed, I am,” said the Earl. He turned to Wyatt. “Your Grace. My mother-in-law told me what you did. I cannot thank you enough.”
“Think nothing of it, My Lord,” said Wyatt. “You are family.”
Gemma caught his eye and smiled. She turned to the physician. “Will my father be all right?” she asked.
“He seems much stronger this morning, Your Grace,” the physician told her. “I recommend he takes these sleeping draughts to ensure he gets the rest he needs to recover. And of course, no more drinking and late nights for a time.” He looked pointedly at the Earl, who chuckled thinly.
“Yes, yes, my good fellow. You have made yourself clear. But how on earth is a man to make it through the day without a little assistance from the bottle?”
Wyatt watched Gemma's shoulders slump forward. Her smile faded. “Father,” she said firmly, “your physician has told you in no uncertain terms that?—”
“Thank you, my dear. That is enough. We will continue this conversation later.” The Earl shuffled back on the pillows, drained by the prospect of the discussion—or at least doing his best to pretend he was.
Gemma turned to the physician. “My father and I will continue this conversation later,” she assured him.
The older man flashed her a smile. “Very good, Your Grace.”
Gemma leaned forward to kiss the Earl's cheek. “Get some rest, Father.” She gave him a fierce stare that Wyatt was very glad he was not on the receiving end of. “This discussion is not over.”
