When they made it to the door to his bedchamber, Lucian stopped. “This is my room,” he explained before pointing to the door several paces down the corridor. “That’s yours.”
“Yes, that’s where I dressed earlier, isn’t it?” she asked, blushing slightly.
“Yes,” he assured her. He led her down to her door before he stopped again. Instinctively, she pulled her arm away from his.
He bowed to her. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
Her brow furrowed, but she nodded. “Good evening, er,Your Grace.” He had not given her permission to call him by his Christian name. Likewise, she hadn’t given him permission to call her Gemma. It would probably be better that way. At least for now. Just another way to establish that their marriage was to be in name only.
After his bow, Lucian turned on his heel and walked away, smiling to himself at the memory of the tiny frown marks between his new wife’s brow.
Gemma jumped at every sound.She’d been in her bedchamber, dressed in her fancy lace night rail, for at least an hour. Her maid, Anna, had helped her dress. Mama and Meredith had given her an encouraging talk earlier, and now she was…waiting. Waiting and waiting, but the duke didn’t come. She knew he was in the adjoining room. The moment she’d gone into her room and shut the door, she’d immediately turned to peek out. She’d watched him go into his bedchamber not ten paces away. And she’d heard several noises coming from the door between their rooms for the first quarter hour after she’d changed. But now there was only…silence.
Her nerves were winging about in her belly. The anticipation was making her ill. She wasn’t frightened any longer. Now it was the anticipation making her jump. When she’d spied him from the dance floor earlier, butterflies had taken flight in her belly. He might be quiet. He might be difficult to read, but there was no doubt that the man was handsome. The truth was she’d been dreaming about kissing him for weeks now. She’d even practiced on her pillow at home. And now, well, she wasreadyfor her wedding night. Looking forward to it, actually. She’d pictured him sitting on the side of the bed, leaning down to capture her mouth with his. She wanted to get started.
In fact, she’d stolen glances at him all day, biting her lip and shivering with anticipation when she thought about them being alone together tonight. Now it was time. But he was dawdling. This wasn’t normal for a groom on his wedding night, was it? How long did it take a groom to prepare? Surely not longer than the bride. She should have asked Mama and Meredith how long it would take. But, honestly, it hadn’t occurred to her to ask.
Perhaps he was being solicitous, making certain she had adequate time. But as the clock on her mantelpiece ticked closer and closer to the hour, she began to fear he was not coming.
Frowning, she tiptoed over to the adjoining door and placed her ear on it.Silence. Scowling, she dropped to her knees, leaned down, and peeked under the door.Darkness. She lifted her head and blinked. Had he left? Gone back downstairs? Surely not.
She climbed back to her feet and paced for a while, biting at her thumbnail and considering her options. Had she been misinformed? Shouldshebe the one to knock on the door? It seemed unlikely, but perhaps he was waiting for her to indicate that she was ready.
Oh, yes, that must be it. Relief slid through her. She summoned every bit of nerve she had and hurried back to the door. She closed her eyes, straightened her shoulders, and raisedher fist to knock. She was just about to strike the first blow when she heard it, distinct and unmistakable.Snoringwas coming from the other side of the door.
Gemma’s mouth dropped open. She shook her head. Surely, she was mistaken. She stepped forward and pressed her ear to the door, holding her breath. No. There was no mistaking it. The clear sounds of snoring echoed from the other side of the door.
It was her wedding night, andher groom was asleep.
O
CHAPTER TEN
The Next Morning, The Duke of Grovemont’s Bedchamber
“Would you like your evening clothes tonight, Your Grace?” Lucian’s valet, Franklin, asked as he finished helping Lucian dress for the morning.
“Yes, please. We’ll be going to the Timberlys’ affair tonight.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” Franklin nodded, bowed, and left the room.
Lucian took one last look at himself in the Cheval glass. Not too shabby. He looked perfectly rested. Most unlike a groom on the morning after his wedding. How would his new bride look? Would she still be frowning when he encountered her this morning? He looked forward to finding out, actually.
Whistling, he made his way down to the breakfast room and pushed open the double doors.
His wife was sitting there. She straightened her back against the chair when he entered the room. The rest of the dining room was empty, save for the servants. The guests had all gone home last night to their own townhomes, including Gemma’s family. Itwas just the two of them this morning in married splendor. He bit his lip to keep from smiling.
“Good morning,” he said in an overly bright voice.
“Good morning,” she replied in a murmur.
A footman began dishing his plate from the sideboard while Lucian glanced over at Gemma. Her plate was covered with food as if she’d barely eaten anything. At the moment, she seemed to be pushing some unfortunate eggs around with her cutlery.
“I trust you slept well,” Lucian added congenially.
“I did,” came his new wife’s curt reply. “You?”
“Quite well.” He took a seat at the far end of the long table opposite her. And just as he did every morning, he snapped open the paper that had been sitting next to his coffee.
