“Is Lord Albion good enough for our Cecily?” the dowager asked, stirring another lump of sugar into her tea.
Lucian wistfully shook his head. This family cared about its friends the same way it would care about a member of their own. Lucian was further surprised when the dowager set down her teacup, leaned across her seat to Gemma, and smoothed a lock of dark hair behind her ear. Then the dowager cupped her daughter’s cheek. The look of pure happiness on the dowager’s face was a revelation to Lucian. His own mother had loved him. He knew she had. But she’d never smoothed his hair or cupped his cheek. His father hadn’t allowed it. And by the time father had died, well, they’d been set in their ways. Stoic to the end, he’d merely squeezed his mother’s hand when she lay on her death bed.
An ache gathered in his chest. One that was quickly and thankfully dispelled by Meredith changing the subject and the dowager drawing her hand away from Gemma’s cheek.
“Lord Pembroke asked after you,” Meredith said, directing her remark to Gemma.
Lucian shifted in his seat, his arm reflexively pulling his wife closer. He would have to have a talk with Pembroke if that fool didn’t stop showing his wife undue attention.
“Is Pembroke a sore subject?” Southbury asked, his astute gaze not missing Lucian’s protective embrace.
“Pembroke is only a friend,” Gemma said, glancing up at Lucian and giving him an exasperated look as she shook her head at him.
Lucian cleared his throat but said nothing. Mainly because the only thing he had to say was that hewouldhave given Pembroke a piece of his mind last night had they opted to go to the Wiltshires’ ball. Instead, when Lucian had arrived at Gemma’s bedchamber to fetch her for the ball, he’d taken one look at her revealing ruby-red gown, and they’d begun kissing and had never made it out of the bedchamber last night. Not, perhaps, subject matter to share with Gemma’s family, however.
“Well.” Meredith stood and quickly launched herself into her husband’s lap. She wrapped her arms around Southbury’s neck and kissed him thoroughly on the mouth. “I know Griffin wouldn’t like it if Pembroke had looked at me the way I’ve seen him look at you, Gemma.”
“He’d better not look at her that way again,” Lucian growled, suddenly wishing Gemma would stand and plop herself into his lap with the same carefree ease he’d just seen her sister-in-law exhibit. And to be kissed on the lips by one’s wife in the middle of the day in front of company? He could imagine both of his parents rolling in their graves at the prospect. But for the first time in his life, Lucian wanted something different. Hewantedthis ease. Hewantedthis comfort. Dare he admit…he wanted thislove?
The unexpected thought nearly knocked the breath from his chest. But when he glanced over at his beautiful wife, who was happily smiling down at her new puppy, he knew it was true. He wanted Gemma’s love. And he would stop at nothing to earn it.
Another hour later,when the coach door shut behind them as they left Southbury’s house, Gemma had another bright smile on her face and an alert puppy in her arms. Lucian sat beside her this time, their thighs touching.
“Meredith looks good,” Gemma said. “You’d never know she’s to have a baby in the winter.”
“Is she?” Lucian’s brows shot up.
“Oh, yes. In February. Didn’t you see how solicitous Mama was being? She is beside herself with happiness.”
Beside herself with happiness? Lucian considered his own mother. He couldn’t imagine ever describing her as “beside herself with happiness.” He’d been raised to believe that duke’s families were special, different. They must carefully control their reactions, their feelings. No one could see anything other than the careful façade they erected. And yet…Southbury was a duke. He hadn’t been raised to the position, to be certain. His older brother had been killed in a horse race while Southbury had been gone to the Continent with the Army. But they’d all been raised in the same home. It stood to reason that all three of the Southbury children were given the same instruction. Gemma had already proved herself to be quite without compunction when it came to showing emotion. Which could only mean one thing… Lucian’s father hadn’t been telling the truth when he’d told Lucian that to show no emotion was the responsibility of a duke.
“What did you think of my family?” Gemma asked as she settled Oliver onto her lap for the ride home.
“I thought they were all quite wonderful. They’re all so warm and loving.”Unlike my family.
“Well, of course, they are.” Her smile brightened the coach.
Lucian cleared his throat. “I’m… It’s different from how I was raised.”
Gemma’s brow immediately furrowed. “Your family didn’t laugh?”
My family didn’t speak. Lucian nodded tersely. Why did he have a lump in his throat? Why did he suddenly feel sorry for the boy he’d been? “Not often.”
“That’s sad,” Gemma replied. She reached up and gingerly laid a hand on his cheek.
Lucian swallowed hard. “I didn’t know any different.”
Gemma bit her lip. “I’ve always had the impression that you are very concerned about your family’s reputation.”
“I am.”
“Because of your father?” she asked quietly.
Lucian nodded. “My father pounded it into my head that a family’s name and a man’s reputation are all that he has at the end of the day. He was quite clear that they both should be guarded at all costs.”
She tugged at the ribbons hanging from her bonnet. “At the cost of your relationships?”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “Pardon?”
