Page 57 of A Devious Secret

Henry huffed. “And they are doing a poor job of watching over you.”

“I disagree.”

With a glance at the neckline of her gown, Henry said, “Come reside at my townhouse and I shall care for you properly.”

“There is no need since I enjoy it here.”

Henry leaned closer and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin. Gemma resisted the urge to shudder but knew she had to do something drastic to remove herself from this situation.

She spilled the tea onto her lap and jumped up, feigning outrage. “Drats,” she said. “I can’t believe I am so clumsy.”

Henry rose. “It is just a spot. It will wash out.”

“I need to have my lady’s maid treat this gown at once so the stain won’t set,” Gemma said as she placed the teacup onto the tray. “I am sorry to cut our meeting short.”

Henry reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I have enjoyed our time together immensely.”

“As have I,” Gemma replied, choking on the words.

He continued to hold her hand, making her feel even more uncomfortable than she already was. Fortunately, her aunt’s voice came from the doorway.

“Lord Hawkinge,” her aunt said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Henry dropped her hand and moved to create more distance between them. He bowed. “Lady Montfort.”

Her aunt glanced down at the stain on her gown and gave her a disapproving look. “Tea is exceptionally difficult to remove from clothing,” she tsked. “You should go at once and I will keep Lord Hawkinge company.”

Henry held his hand up. “Thank you, but I have work that I need to see to,” he informed her. “Perhaps another time, my lady.”

“How disappointing,” her aunt said. “But I do understand.”

With a parting look at Gemma, Henry departed from the drawing room, and she didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she heard the main door close.

Her aunt gave her a knowing look. “Did you truly spill your tea to avoid Lord Hawkinge?”

“I did,” she replied, seeing no reason to deny it.

“May I ask why?”

Gemma walked over to the window and watched as Henry stepped into his black coach. “Henry has always flirted with me, but he has grown bolder with each passing day.”

“He couldn’t possibly intend to marry you since it is illegal to marry a brother’s widow in England.”

“I do not believe that is the arrangement he has in mind for me,” Gemma admitted.

Her aunt’s eyes grew wide. “That audacious man!” she exclaimed. “What nerve of him to try to take you as a mistress.”

Gemma turned back towards her aunt. “What am I to do? I rely upon his good graces to live,” she said. “Without him, where would I go?”

“You would live here, with us,” her aunt declared.

“I couldn’t possibly intrude.”

Her aunt had a determined look on her face. “I couldn’t live with myself if I sent you back to Hawkinge with that man, knowing what I know now,” she said.

Gemma hoped her words properly expressed the gratitude that she felt in her heart. “Thank you.”

“Now, go and take care of that stain before it sets,” her aunt advised. “We wouldn’t want you to ruin a gown over Lord Hawkinge, now would we?”

“No, we would not,” Gemma replied, pleased that she had the foresight to set her green gown aside for her outing with Mr. Wycomb.