His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) by Marly Mathews

for love? There did indeed exist a spark between her and Archie, but the question was, was there a promise of love burgeoning between them? She thought there might be. Either way, she had crossed the river of no return. Mallory would not stop until he had his way. Sighing heavily, she stood up, and turned to regard Elizabeth.
    “You mustn’t look so severe, Gemma. You look as if you are going to your executioner!”
    “My life is about to change for the better or the worse, I do not know.”
    “I think it is about to change for the better, Gemma,” Elizabeth said softly. 
    Squaring her shoulders, she tossed her hair back. She had let it hang loose down around her shoulders. Some might think she was being brazen, but she didn’t care. Why should she care about what others thought anymore? Her life was in shambles, and in truth, she didn’t want to disturb her maid. Already, tongues below stairs would be wagging, she didn’t want to feed the fire. With nervousness dancing through her, she marched down to the South Drawing Room. Walking to Archie’s side, she looked at the vicar who looked a little sleepy. They had probably woken him to perform the ceremony.
    The words the vicar spoke were lost on her. She played her part, and before she knew it, blessedly, the whole thing was over. She put her signature where she had to, and then, as if in a daze, she headed back to her bedchamber. No one even tried to detain her. 
    She rang for her maid after realizing that she couldn’t manage the stay she wore on her own. Silently, her maid tended to her. If she knew what Gemma had done, she didn’t say anything about it. That was what she liked about Carson, she seemed to sense Gemma’s moods, and knew when it was safe to strike up some civil whiskers, and knew when it was safer to keep her bone box shut.
    “Is…is that all, Lady Northam?”
    “What did you just say?” she whispered, something resembling dread burning through her gut.
    “I...” Carson’s face went a vermillion red. “I…I asked you if that was all.”
    “No, the very last part, the bit where you addressed me by title.”
    “I…uh, I said Lady Northam.”
    “Why would you call me that? I’m Lady Gemma. I shan’t be calling myself Mrs. Campbell, that’s for certain.”
    “You don’t have to style yourself Mrs. Campbell, my lady. I thought you knew…”
    “What did you think I knew? Archie Campbell is just plain old Archie Campbell.” Egad. She’d married a man she hardly knew. She thought him to be just one of the hoi polloi. To think, to think that he was nobly born, oh, how she had make a cake of herself! Oh, how he must be laughing at her. Oh, he must think she was dicked in the nob! She felt a fit of the blue-devils coming on.
    Maybe, maybe Carson was wrong.
    “Are you quite certain that he is a…Peer of the Realm?” she asked, gulping back her trepidation.
    “His valet came with him.”
    “Valet?” Now she really felt weak.
    “Aye. Said he was here to attend to the Marquis, then, he corrected himself and said Marquess, seeing as he’s in England.”
    “And he’s the Marquess of Northam.”
    “Aye,” Carson said softly. “His father is a duke.”
    At this announcement, Gemma almost fell off her chair. “So…we…we…”
    “Are on even level so to speak?” Carson asked. She looked in the mirror. Carson stood behind her, and was that the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips?
    “Why would he do that to me?”
    “Who?” Carson asked.
    “Lord Northam.”
    “I wasn’t aware he had done anything to you, my lady.”
    “He didn’t tell me who he was.”
    “You knew his name,” Carson pointed out.
    “Aye, but I should have known more than that, and I made…I presumed…I made assumptions, didn’t I?”
    Carson remained silent, quietly answering Gemma. Gemma’s world was tilting. She felt faint. She would need to climb into her bed soon, because she didn’t think her legs would hold her long, and as she sat