Page 111 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“Oh, yes,” Berry said. “The poor girl.”

Maude shook her head. “No, I mean that their daughter defied the Fullertons’ wishes and never attempted to apologize to them.”

Gwen pursed her lips. “Oh, Maude. How could you say such a thing? It is the Fullertons who are at fault. Why would parents deny their own children happiness? Or take out their displeasure on an innocent grandchild? It is so unfair.”

“I would not do any such thing,” Maude admitted. “But can you not see their side of it? What would happen if we all ignored the wishes of our parents? The very fabric of Society would unravel.”

Having imparted her gossip, Maude moved on, muttering something about catching a lung infection if they continued to leave their door open.

Berry, Miranda, and Suzanna expressed their pity for the Fullerton granddaughter before also moving on.

“Do not mind Maude,” Gwen said. “She isn’t happy unless she is complaining. I think I’ll have to match her with a gentleman who has the sunniest disposition.”

James laughed. “That will drive her to madness, Gwen.”

She cast him an impish smirk. “Indeed. Can you imagine her every complaint being met with a cheerful response? She’ll pull out her hair in frustration and her stomach will be constantly dyspeptic if she is always forced to look on the bright side of things.”

“I knew you were a wicked woman,” he teased, planting a chaste kiss on her cheek. Of course, the kisses they would share once in their bedroom would not be tame at all. Thank goodness Gwen liked him, because he seemed incapable of keeping his hands off her.

“It is all your fault, you naughty man. You bring out the wicked in me.” But she laughed and shook her head. “Perhaps I shall wait until I have made a few more love matches before tackling Maude.”

“Speaking of tackling…I had better leave your side now to look after the boys. That’s the fourth young lady Jordan has kissed under the mistletoe tonight.”

“He doesn’t waste time, does he?”

“He gets away with it because he is still young and the ladies think he is harmless.” James grunted. “Blessed saints, look at his innocent smile. He has them all deceived.”

“At least Robert is behaving.”

“Ha! You think so? Both boys are working on their third cup of mulled wine, and the evening is just getting started.”

Despite his gripes about his sons, the remainder of the evening went smoothly.

He and Gwendolyn were a little tipsy as they closed up the house in the wee hours of the morning and made their way upstairs. The boys had retired to their bedchambers half an hour ago when the last of their guests departed.

When first moving into Gwendolyn’s home on Duchess Square, James had worried that his sons would not settle in easily, for they had spent most of their lives in the Milbury residence nearby. But he needn’t have worried, for they had adapted to the change readily. No more than a day or two had passed before they began referring to Gwendolyn’s house and Duchess Square as their home.

James retained their Milbury townhouse because he intended to give it to Jordan once he reached the age of majority. Of course, he would hold off if the lad turned into an irredeemable rakehell. But Jordan, despite an occasional misstep, had a good head on his shoulders. James expected his son would become more selective in the young bucks or the ladies with whom he kept company.

The lad had been trained throughout his young life to remain on his guard at all times. After all, this was something important to be ingrained in him, since he was James’s heir and would someday become the Marquess of Milbury.

He taught this same lesson to Robert, as well. A bit of caution in their dealings with everyone they encountered had to become second nature to them. Jordan and Robert were the “haves,” and people would always be seeking something from them.

But he set aside such thoughts as he and Gwendolyn entered their bedchamber and prepared to retire. “I ought to be exhausted,” he remarked, helping her unlace her gown, which molded to her body in all the right ways. He was taking too long about it because she was so lovely that he wound up kissing her and nuzzling her neck with every lace untied.

“But you’re not?” she asked with her soft, lilting laugh that always felt like a sweet summer breeze.

“Well, I am a little.” He finished unlacing her and then began to undress himself. “But I’m not quite ready to close my eyes. You looked so beautiful tonight, Gwen. I could not take my eyes off you the entire evening. Still not ready to do so. I don’t know, there’s something magical about you tonight. Or perhaps I’m just an old goat who cannot get enough of your sweet body.”

She cast him the softest smile as she stood naked in the glow of firelight, about to don her flannel nightgown. It was a crisp, cold night, but they were cozily ensconced in their bedchamber.

Was it his imagination, or had her breasts grown larger?

Not that they hadn’t already been beautifully ample, and a luscious handful. An even more luscious mouthful.

“There might be a reason for that,” she said as the woolen fabric slid over her curves.

“For my lusting after your body? What possible…” He gasped and gently placed his hands on her shoulders while staring down at her. “Gwen?”