Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

“ H ave you seen the Duke of Grovemont, by chance?” Gemma asked Lord Trentham in her most nonchalant voice. The Marquess of Trentham was the bride’s older brother and the fourth person she’d asked this same question in nearly as many minutes.

“Seems as if I’ve seen him round here somewhere,” Lord Trentham answered, glancing about.

Drat. Trentham’s answer was the same as the others. Apparently Grovemont had left the ballroom. Gemma had searched everywhere. What if he’d left the ball? She hadn’t been watching him the way Mary obviously had, but Gemma had seen him . He’d looked melancholy. Poor man. He’d waited the requisite six months after his mother’s death before returning to Society, of course, for propriety’s sake, but Gemma could only imagine how sad she would be if her mother died. She didn’t even like to think of it.

No doubt Grovemont had merely made a brief appearance at Griffin’s wedding ball because they were friends. Perhaps Grovemont had already left. Honestly, Gemma wouldn’t blame him.

She hated to interrupt Griffin and Meredith on their special day, but Griffin was sitting at the head table waiting for Meredith to return from the lady’s retiring room. Now was as good a time as any to ask him a question.

She lifted her pink skirts and made her way over to Griffin.

“Gemma, dear, there you are!” Griffin nearly shouted. Her brother, who was rarely intoxicated, was clearly feeling very little pain tonight. He had been drinking champagne and dancing with his lovely bride all evening. It was a joy to see Griff so happy. It had taken him forever to admit his love for his best friend, Meredith. He’d finally declared himself last year, and Mama had spent the entire autumn and winter planning the wedding. There was much to celebrate.

“You look happy, Griffin,” Gemma said, giving him a tight hug.

“I am happy, poppet.” His smile was enormous.

“You’d best enjoy yourself,” Gemma continued. “I’ve little doubt Mama will be over soon insisting that you and Meredith go to bed.” They all knew Mama had been counting the days until a grandson could be born.

Griffin’s eyes widened. “What do you know of it, poppet?” he asked, watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Enough to know you’ll be in trouble if there isn’t an heir to the dukedom born in precisely nine months,” Gemma replied. Oh, she already knew all about what happened between a man and a woman in bed. She’d overheard Mama’s whist-playing, wine-drinking lady friends talk about such things when they thought she was abed. But the real education had come from Meredith. Meredith had grown up without a mother and had apparently been woefully ignorant of how such things worked. She’d sat Gemma down last Season to ensure she was fully educated in what went on between a couple in the bedchamber.

Honestly, from what Gemma had heard, the entire act seemed slightly ridiculous. But she wasn’t the one getting married tonight. She had ages before she would have to worry about such things. Not only was she in no rush to marry, but she also hardly expected to be asked until she finally blossomed, which, according to Mama, might well be another entire year from now, if not longer.

Which was why Gemma was so set on helping the other young ladies. As the sister of a duke and a lady in possession of a large dowry, she would have no issue procuring an offer of marriage eventually , even if she ended up being only half as lovely as Mama. But the other poor wallflowers, some of whose families were counting on them to make a good match, shouldn’t have to endure Mary’s machinations. Hence Gemma’s search for Grovemont in order to ask him to dance.

She cleared her throat. She needed to sound entirely indifferent. “By the by, Griff, you haven’t happened to see the Duke of Grovemont recently, have you?”

Griffin’s brows shot up. “Grovemont? Why are you looking for him ?”

“Oh, one of the girls was asking after him,” Gemma said, waving her hand in the air as if the matter was nothing of import.

After her staunch defense of the wallflowers last Season, both Griffin and Meredith were well aware of Gemma’s penchant for looking out for the other girls. Griff would have no problem believing she was only searching for Grovemont because one of the wallflowers had asked. Besides, Griff and Mere tended to treat her like a young girl at times, fussing over her choices and reminding her to be patient. She was a woman of nineteen years old now. They needn’t worry about her any longer. Of course, Gemma had no intention of telling her brother that she planned to ask Grovemont to dance in order to keep Mary from acting like a termagant at his wedding ball. Griffin shouldn’t worry about a thing save enjoying himself tonight.

Griffin lifted his champagne glass to his lips and frowned. “Now that I think of it, seems to me Grovemont may be in my study. Earlier he asked if he might use it for a bit.”

“Oh, well then. I’ll have to let my friend know,” Gemma replied, trying to seem a bit sorry to hear the news. Of course, under normal circumstances, a young lady couldn’t go searching for a bachelor alone in a study. That would be scandalous. But what Griffin (and everyone else) didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. And Gemma had every intention of getting her task over with as quickly as possible. After all, who knew if Grovemont intended to return to the ballroom tonight?

But how would she prove she’d asked him to dance? Hmm. Either Mary would have to take her word for it, or she would have to catch Mary’s eye and get her to follow Gemma to the study.

Meredith returned to the table just then and after greeting Gemma with a big hug, the bride asked her new husband to dance with her. Which gave Gemma precisely the opening she needed to go in search of Grovemont.

Waving at the happy couple as they took to the dance floor, Gemma made her way to one of the ballroom’s side doors. Just before she slipped through it, she glanced around to ensure Mary was watching.

Gemma needn’t have worried. The girl’s bright eyes were fixed on her. Excellent. Mary could follow and see for herself. That would be best. Gemma tipped her head toward the corridor and nodded meaningfully before disappearing through the door. Even a fool like Mary had to have understood her meaning.