Free The Widow Wager by Jess Michaels Page B

out for months, while you and especially Gemma are the topics of a kind of gossip that I promise you is nothing like the whispers about the playful antics of you and your brother over the years.”
    Annabelle nodded. “There would be censure for you both. It could very well be irretrievable.”
    Crispin’s full lips were pinched. He continued to look at Gemma, holding her stare with his really very beautiful blue ones.
    “Would censure pass to you, Annabelle? To Rafe and Serafina? To Mama?” he asked.
    Rafe stepped forward now. “Yes. I believe this is the kind of scandal that might affect us all. Serafina would likely know best. But none of us would tell you to make this decision based upon what we would suffer.”
    Now Crispin turned and looked at his family. There was something different in the set of his jaw, as if he had changed in the brief time they’d been apart. Gemma found herself mesmerized by it.
    “But I must consider it,” Crispin said softly. “I must consider the consequences to my family and to Gemma. After all, it is I who did this with my foolish actions. I created this.”
    He looked at her again and reached for her. She let him take her hands, felt the warmth of him in his rough fingers. She couldn’t withdraw and couldn’t look away as he leaned in.
    “I am truly, deeply sorry, Gemma.”
    She blinked at sudden tears that flooded her eyes. He had said those words before, but this was the first time his apology felt whole. It sank into her, washing away some of the anger she felt toward him. She nodded.
    “I know you are,” she whispered.
    He nodded and pulled away. “I think Gemma and I need some time to discuss this matter and others alone. But may we return for supper tomorrow night?”
    “Of course,” Rafe said. “Perhaps you can see Crispin as well and visit Serafina, though I think she will be abed still.”
    Crispin frowned. “See Crispin?”
    “Yes. We named the baby that, you see. Crispin Reginald. After you and father.”
    The way Crispin staggered back, Gemma felt she had no choice but to reach out, steadying him with a hand against his arm. For a moment, tears brightened his eyes and he blinked to clear them.
    “That is an honor to share a name with your son, Rafe. Perhaps I can do a better job moving forward in showing him how to behave.”
    “He’s a Flynn,” Marcus Rivers said with a laugh behind them. “You two have already blazed a spectacular trail for the boy.”
    The others laughed, but Crispin was still struggling with what were clearly extreme emotions. He nodded once more.
    “So, tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow.” Rafe turned to Gemma, and she couldn’t help but smile at his continually welcoming expression. Whatever they had discussed in this room about her, Crispin’s brother did not seem to fully judge her. Yet. “I look forward to it, Gemma.”
    “As do I, Your Grace,” she said with a slight incline of her head.
    “Great God, woman— Rafe ,” he said with a laugh as he hugged first his brother and then gently embraced her. “You are my sister now. You can’t ‘Your Grace’ me or I shall expire.”
    Gemma stood in stunned shock as the rest of the family repeated the embrace that Rafe had begun, each murmuring words of encouragement and support. Even Rivers pulled her closer for a moment.
    “They’re a family worth joining, my lady,” he said. “But we protect our own.”
    When she pulled back, she looked at him, but his face was unreadable. He merely smiled mildly and followed as the entire group escorted them to the carriage outside. But as they waved them off and they drove away, Gemma couldn’t help thinking that whatever had happened in the billiards room was going to have broader reaching repercussions. And she wasn’t certain she wanted to deal with those.
    Not now. Not ever.
     

Chapter Nine

     
     
    Crispin watched as Gemma picked at what was left of her supper, running the fork over the remnants of chicken and vegetables. When they