How was he feeling? Howwashe feeling? God, the question alone induced panic.
“Take your time,” Trentham replied. “I know it’s difficult for you.”
Lucian took a deep breath. He could do this. He needed to begin the sentence with…“I feel…” He took another deep breath for good measure. “Honestly, I feel…frightened. As if I already know I’ll fail.”
Trentham cocked his head to the side. “And you think you’ll fail because…?”
“Because I have no earthly idea how to care about someone’s emotions or how to show mine,” Lucian blurted.
“That’s not true. You just shared an emotion with me. And one that is not easy to share at that.”
At Lucian’s inquiring look, Trentham said, “You told me you’re frightened.”
Lucian pressed his lips together. “I did, didn’t I?” Trentham had a point. Had he ever told another living soul he was frightened before? And he’d just shared that with another man. Not only that, it felt good to admit it. Freeing, actually.
“Yes. And it gets easier the more you do it.” Trentham clapped him on the shoulder. “Just be honest with Gemma. Tell her what you’re feeling. Ask her what she’s feeling. I promise you’ll get much further with her that way than by ordering her about.”
Lucian lifted his chin. “Who says I was ordering her about?”
Trentham grinned and lifted his glass. “We’ve been friends a long time, Grovemont.”
Lucian couldn’t argue with that. “All right. I’ll try it.”
“Good. It also helps me to behave toward women in the exact opposite manner my father would have done so.”
Oh, nowthatwas solid advice.
“Pay attention to your wife,” Trentham continued with another grin, tipping his glass toward his friend in salute. “What do you have to lose?”
Oh, only his marriage, his reputation, and his future heir. But who was counting? If paying her attention and sharing his feelings was the way to convince Gemma to give him another chance, Lucian would do it.
He had to.
O
CHAPTER THIRTY
Four Days Later, The Grundys’ Drawing Room
“He asked me to dance three times. He brought me two glasses of champagne. And then, when we arrived home, he inquired as to what I wanted to be served forbreakfast!”
Gemma imparted all of this while sitting on the burgundy settee in Cecily’s drawing room. Gemma was wearing a light-yellow gown. Cecily was wearing a sky-blue one. And both of them were eating far too many scones while drinking far too much tea.
“That all sounds quite lovely,” Cecily said from her perch on the matching settee across from Gemma’s.
“It all sounds quitesuspicious,” Gemma insisted. “Last night he asked me if I wanted to go riding in the park today.”
Cecily took a sip from her teacup. “What do you mean? You love to go riding in the park.”
“I know I do, buthedoesn’t know that I do. And I don’t think for one moment the manwantsto ride in the park with me.”
Cecily frowned. “Why wouldn’t he?”
Gemma shook her head. “That’s just it, Cecily. You’re thinking of this fromyourperspective.Youwould like to ride in the park with me. But he doesn’t like me and thinks I’m a cheating, lying ne'er-do-well.”
“But you aren’t a cheating, lying ne'er-do-well,” Cecily pointed out loyally.
“Of course, I’m not, but he thinks I am. Which is myentirepoint. I told him I wanted a divorce, and now he’s being nice to me. He clearly wants something.”
