He’d been thinking much the same, but hearing it from her lips made him want to dig in his heels. “Unexpected, perhaps, but not a mistake, surely.”
“Cam,” she said, a little desperately. “Stop. I understand you feel guilty about hurting me, but there’s really no need for it. I know the truth now, and that’s far better than muddling along with some farce of a betrothal that would fall apart later. It was only a kiss.”
“Only a very good kiss,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Do you think it’s like that with everyone?”
“Since I’ve never kissed anyone else, I’m sure I don’t know,” she said primly. She didn’t look up at him.
Then, with a sigh, she looked up at him. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were red. Whether from her tears earlier or more recently, he couldn’t know. But he felt a stab of guilt over it just the same.
She’d never looked more appealing.
Cam closed his eyes at the thought. Dammit, he was only here to apologize. Not notice her appeal.
“Well?” she asked, her tone impatient.
He said the first thing that came to him. “What made you come here? To the workroom, I mean?”
She looked surprised at the question, but shrugged. “It’s where I’m most comfortable. And cleaning fossils helps me think.”
“Think?” He really was the most imbecilic man in the nation, he thought with an inward sigh.
But she seemed to find this amusing. Or something …
“Yes, Cam, think. I know you’ve heard of it, though I feel sure you are of the opinion that ladies don’t engage in the practice very often.”
“That’s not fair,” he said scowling. “I never said anything of the sort. And I thought we were friends.”
“Perhaps not in so many words,” she admitted. “But it’s quite clear to me now that what I’d thought was a friendship between us was only some foolish misunderstanding on my part.”
She shook her head a little. “I don’t blame you. Serena is lovely. And the perfect sort of proper lady a man would wish for in a wife. If I were a man, I’d marry her myself.”
He didn’t laugh at her joke. This was far worse than he’d thought.
He took her hand. “Gemma, I think you are just as lovely as your sister or Serena. What’s more, you’re intelligent and brave. But even you must admit that we would likely kill one another before the bridal trip was over.”
He said the words and meant them, but a small part of him protested the notion. They might be at loggerheads frequently, but there would certainly be passion. And as he’d told her, that wasn’t something that happened every day.
Gemma smiled at that. “I think I could restrain myself. Annoying though you may be.”
He smiled too. It would be much easier to come to some sort of solution if he didn’t want to kiss that dimple that appeared only when she smiled.
“What will we do, then?” she asked. “It’s plain as a pikestaff that we cannot simply go on as before. Serena and Sophia, while not ready to force us into marrying, at the very least expect a betrothal to protect my reputation.”
It was what he’d come to realize too. He had no wish to ruin her reputation, or to see her cut off from her family and friends because of his mistake. He might not have kissed her first, but he’d not pulled away. And for all that she considered herself a full participant, he was a gentleman and had more experience in these matters. He should have stopped it before it got out of hand.
“I think we should, at the very least, enter into a betrothal,” he said. “You may cry off in a month or so. Once we’ve had a chance to squelch any rumors. For we both know that even if Serena told no one about what she saw, servants talk and they might have overheard something. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were remarking upon the fact that we’ve been in this room together alone for an extended period of time.”
At that, Gemma muttered a curse and scrambled to her feet, pulling her hand away from his in the process.
He felt strangely bereft at the loss. But he, too, got to his feet.
“We really will have to do this, then?” she asked with a moue of distaste. “I am not very good at pretense. My face is far too quick to reveal my thoughts.”
“Will it be so distasteful, then?” Good lord, he was turning into some sort of mooning schoolboy. If he didn’t stop himself he’d be writing her poetry and composing ballads to sing up at her window.
She narrowed her eyes, and looked at him for a moment. And he felt as if she were trying to see into his soul.
“Perhaps not so distasteful,” she admitted. “Mayhap we can use this as an opportunity for my education.”
He nodded. “I would be happy to teach you more about geology. I’ve brought some of the latest journals from France with me and…”
When she moved closer and slipped her hands over his shoulders, he felt a frisson of alarm. And desire, if he were being entirely honest.
“I do not need you to teach me about fossils, Cam,” she said with a raised brow. “But as I mentioned, you were the first person I’d kissed. And as I mean to remain unwed, I would hate to miss out on the opportunity to experience all the pleasures to be had from life.”
His eyes went wide with alarm. “Oh no. Gemma, this is not a good idea.” He tried to remove her hands from his shoulders, but his traitorous brain slipped his arms about her waist instead.
“I think it’s a very good idea,” she said, leaning forward to touch his nose with hers. “If we’re to be betrothed, why not behave as other betrothed couples do?”
“I … Gemma, we can’t…” If Ben found out about this he was going to do more than plant him a facer.
But when her lips met his, Cam couldn’t think about what-ifs and consequences. His only thoughts were for the warm woman in his arms and just how much he wanted her.
* * *
When he began to kiss her back, Gemma felt as if she’d scaled the chalk cliffs in one leap. Her heart beat faster, her breath caught in her throat and she felt a pulse deep in her belly. Whatever their reasons for this betrothal, she knew one thing with every sinew of her body: they were very good together.
She’d been upset at what she’d overheard. What woman with any sort of self-respect wouldn’t? He’d practically come right out and said Serena was his preferred choice. And though she’d understood it—Serena was by far the most beautiful and accomplished lady of her acquaintance—the comparison had hurt. Because she knew she wasn’t nearly as sensible a choice as Serena was.
His explanation had stung, but it would have hurt more if he’d lied. And though she wasn’t quite sure whether his compliments of her were genuine, it had been kind of him to say so.
But whether he thought she was the perfect choice for a bride, he most certainly agreed that there was something else between them. His confession that it wasn’t as combustible with everyone had been very flattering.
And as he licked into her mouth and pulled her closer to his hard body, she couldn’t deny that she was pleased that she made him feel this way. Even if their betrothal ended in a few months, she would use this time to learn everything she could about what went on between men and women. And if she ended up with a broken heart—because she knew she could very easily fall in love with him no matter how much of a dolt he could be—then she would have at least known the pleasure of holding him in her arms.
“Again?”
This time the interruption came from Sophia, who was looking exasperated as she stood in the door to the workroom.
“If you’re going to be behaving this scandalously, it’s obvious that we should get the two of you married sooner rather than later.”
Pulling away from Cam far more slowly than she’d done earlier when Serena found them, Gemma slipped her arm through his. “First things first, Sophia,” she said with a grin. “You must wish us happy on our betrothal.”
And in the flurry of congratulations, Gemma sent up a silent prayer that she’d made the
right decision. Because she knew in her heart of hearts that this might be her undoing.
Chapter 10
Gemma and Cam celebrated their betrothal over luncheon with Lady Serena, Sophia and Ben.
And for a temporary measure meant only to protect Gemma’s reputation, it felt damned real to Cam.
So real, in fact, that when, instead of discussing wedding details with her sister and chaperone, Gemma announced that she was ready to go to Pearson Close, he laughed. He couldn’t help it.
They’d both been up since before dawn, had seen a dead body, been interrogated by the local magistrate, and been compromised into a false betrothal.
Any other lady would have taken to her bedchamber with smelling salts.
But, as he’d realized months ago, Gemma was not like any other lady.
“I’m serious,” Gemma said frowning even as she slipped her arm through his as they left the dining room. “We must go examine Sir Everard’s belongings before Mr. Northman does. I fear he may have already got there ahead of us, but it’s worth a try, at the very least. There may be some clue to who killed him, and therefore who has my fossil.”
Cam stopped to look at her, not unaware of his brother smirking behind them. Ben was likely pleased to see another man having to contend with the mad starts of a Hastings sister.
He’d always been happier when he had company.
To Gemma he said, “I know I agreed to help you find your fossil, but—”
“Yes,” Gemma interrupted, “and the best way to do that is to see if there’s anything in Sir Everard’s things that will give us a clue. It might not go amiss if we interview his valet. Did you not say he often helped his master in his endeavors? He will likely object to our examining Sir Everard’s papers. You will have to distract him, somehow.” She beamed at him as if he were a prized pupil. “I have faith in you, though, Cam. You can be quite persuasive when you want to be.”
Before he could reply, she said, “I’ll just go fetch my coat and hat. I’ll only be a moment.”
With that, she hurried up the stairs.
Cam felt as if he’d just been knocked over by a gale force wind.
“So, I see you’ve been given your orders,” Ben said wryly, clapping him on the shoulder. “Welcome to my world.”
“Thanks so much for your help,” Cam said with a glare.
“Come now,” Ben said cheerfully. “The Hastings sisters may know their own minds, but they make up for it in other ways. Sophia hardly ever orders me around like that anymore. At least, not when I’ve been doing my best to keep her happy.”
“So you just do her bidding?” Cam asked aghast. He’d be dashed if he would allow himself to be led around by the nose.
“I wouldn’t quite put it like that,” Ben said with a shrug. “I try to do what will make her happy. And she does the same for me. But sometimes we both fail. In which case, we argue, then make up. To be honest, the making up is the best part sometimes.”
“You’re a very strange fellow,” Cam told his brother.
“You should hear Archer,” Ben said with a shake of his head. “He’s been married longer than any of us. He knows far more about dealing with a wife. Though of course, every lady is different.”
This was a whole world that Cam hadn’t even known existed, he realized. He was almost sad he’d not be welcomed into this husbands’ club.
But only almost.
* * *
Tillie was buttoning her into a long-sleeved persimmon-colored velvet when a knock heralded the arrival of Ivy, followed close behind by Daphne.
Seeing that they were wide-eyed and obviously wished to discuss the morning’s events, she said to the maid, “I can manage the rest, Tillie. Thank you.”
With a nod, the girl slipped from the room.
“It would appear that we chose the wrong morning to sleep in,” Ivy said with a shake of her head and she came forward and gave Gemma a fierce hug. “What an awful thing for you to see. And then to be imposed upon by Lord Cameron like that. Do you wish me to tell Kerr to have a word with him? Or perhaps both he and Maitland. I know he is Lord Benedick’s brother, but that can be no excuse for his behavior.”
“No matter how many facers Lord Benedick plants on him with his fives,” Daphne added staunchly.
Despite herself, Gemma laughed. “There’s no need to send your husbands to talk sense into Cam,” she told her friends. “Though I am grateful for the offer. And contrary to what you must think, Ben and Sophia aren’t forcing me into anything. It’s to be a temporary betrothal until some time has passed. For propriety’s sake. I would have dispensed with the whole thing, but Sophia, rightly pointed out to me that a ruined reputation might mean that I would be cut off from my friends and family.”
She took them each by the hand. “I couldn’t bear it if you were unable to receive me because of my own foolishness.”
“We would never do that to you,” said Ivy fiercely, her eyes stern behind her spectacles. “Not even if Kerr ordered it of me.”
“And I wouldn’t wish to put you in that position,” Gemma said. “Though I do appreciate the loyalty.”
“And what of Lord Cameron?” Daphne asked, her blue eyes searching. “Was the thrashing the vicar delivered sufficient or should we have it followed up on by Maitland and Kerr?”
“He didn’t deserve a thrashing at all,” Gemma said with a shake of her head. “I was a willing participant in the kiss, and if Serena hadn’t walked in on us, no one would have been any the wiser.”
“Oh poor Serena,” said Ivy with a shake of her head. “I believe she hoped you, at least, would manage to finish out the year without compromising yourself.”
“One cannot compromise oneself, Ivy,” said Daphne with a shake of her head. “Unless one were to do the female equivalent of boxing the Jesuit in public, I suppose, but really that’s simply outside the realm of anything Gemma would be likely to—”
Deciding she’d best get back downstairs before Cam left without her, Gemma cut Daphne off mid-thought. “I’m sorry to go before we have time to speak more candidly about this, but I’m afraid Lord Cameron is waiting for me downstairs and we must be off.”
Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a new gown, isn’t it?”
“Where are you going?” Daphne demanded.
Gemma picked up the hat Tillie had left out for her and busied herself pinning it to her hair. “We are going to question Sir Everard’s valet at Pearson Close.”
“You’re investigating the murder, aren’t you?” Ivy asked, wide-eyed. “Poor Serena.”
Before they could begin questioning her further, Gemma kissed them each on the cheek and fled.
But not before she heard Daphne call out, “Good luck.”
She wasn’t sure whether her friend referred to Cam, or the search for the murderer. She’d take the luck for either.
* * *
When Gemma finally reappeared, she’d changed into another formfitting velvet. This one was a dull red color and was partially covered by a pelisse of the same shade. The color accentuated the peaches and cream of her complexion and was set off by a jaunty hat adorned with a cluster of flowers he couldn’t identify. None of it seems particularly practical for the current weather but as they would be indoors most of the time, it didn’t seem to be an issue.
And he had to admit, she was in fine looks.
“I took the liberty of having your curricle brought round,” Gemma told him as she stepped forward. “I hope you don’t mind.”
He looked up to see what Ben thought of this but he was gone.
The coward.
“Certainly not,” he said aloud. “I suppose we should go if we’re to get there before Northman.”
He gathered his coat and hat and gloves from George and soon he was lifting Gemma into his curricle. It wasn’t the most practical of vehicles in this weather, but with the bonnet up and the hot bricks and carriage blankets William brought them, it would be bearable.
Once they
were on the road, Gemma turned to him and asked, “How shall we get me into the house?”
“Dash it,” Cam said, “I forgot about Pearson’s ridiculous no females rule. Perhaps I should go alone. I’ll turn back.”
He made as if to direct the horses to do just that but Gemma put a hand on his arm. “Don’t do that. We can figure something out. Just give me a minute.”
Reluctantly he did as she asked, though he wasn’t particularly hopeful of their prospects. It wasn’t as if they could dress her in men’s clothing and sneak her in that way.
“What were Mr. Pearson’s plans for today?” Gemma asked. “Did anyone plan on going out for some reason? Perhaps a trip to the pub?”
But he shook his head. One of the most disappointing aspects of the house party had been Pearson’s reluctance to introduce his guests to the local attractions. Which was a shame given the proximity to Lyme and other well-known fossil grounds. And there had been no question of a large group traveling to see the collection at Beauchamp House. Pearson, of course, disapproved of Lady Celeste and her decision to leave her estate to four ladies.
“As far as I know, everyone was intending to remain at the house,” he said aloud. “Though I suppose with the news of what happened to Sir Everard, there will be some who wish to go into town to get more details. Or perhaps leave altogether.”
“Perhaps that will be our cover story, then,” Gemma said with a nod. “We’re coming to bring the sad news. It did happen at my home. And you’re my betrothed so there’s no surprise in our coming together.”
“Northman warned us not to tell them before he could,” Cam reminded her. “And Pearson doesn’t even allow female servants in his house. How do you expect to get past the butler?”
“It isn’t our fault that Northman is taking so long,” Gemma said innocently. “And the butler can hardly toss me out on my ear with my handsome fiancé—who is a guest of his master—at my side, can he?”
“Handsome, eh?” He gave her a sideways look and she blushed and refused to meet his eyes.
“You know perfectly well you’re handsome, you devil.” The single dimple he liked so well made an appearance.
One for the Rogue (Studies in Scandal) Page 11
