Page 22 of The Baron’s Reluctant Bride (Marriage Mart Scandals #4)

The melodramatic phrasing was not unusual for William, whose flair for the theatrical had been evident since childhood. It was the trembling quality of the handwriting that had truly alarmed Gemma, suggesting a state of agitation beyond his usual dramatics.

The drawing room door burst open without ceremony, causing Gemma to start in her seat. William strode in, his cravat askew and his usually immaculate hair disheveled, as though he had been repeatedly running his fingers through it.

"Gemma!" he exclaimed, relief washing over his handsome features. "Thank God you've come. I wasn't certain you would be permitted to leave your new residence."

Gemma frowned, rising to greet her brother with a kiss on the cheek. "What nonsense is this? I am hardly a prisoner, William."

Though the butler did look rather startled when I requested a carriage without Lord Brokeshire's knowledge or escort , she admitted silently. Perhaps I should have left word, but William's note suggested such urgency...

"Of course not," William agreed hastily, pacing the length of the room with frenetic energy. "It's only... well, one hears stories about controlling husbands, and given the hasty nature of your marriage—"

"Lord Brokeshire has been nothing but courteous," Gemma interrupted firmly. "Now, pray tell me what emergency has prompted this summons? Your note was most alarming."

William halted his pacing, his youthful face suddenly haggard in the afternoon light. "I hardly know where to begin," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "It's all gone terribly wrong, Gemma. Everything."

A cold knot of dread formed in Gemma's stomach. "Perhaps you might start by sitting down," she suggested, gesturing to the chair opposite her own. "And taking some tea."

"Tea?" William laughed, the sound brittle and jarring. "I rather think this situation calls for something stronger."

He strode to the sideboard, pouring himself a generous measure of brandy with trembling hands. Gemma watched with growing concern as he downed half the glass in a single swallow, wincing at the burn.

"William," she said quietly, "you're frightening me. Please, sit and tell me what has happened."

Her brother collapsed into the chair as though his legs could no longer support him, the brandy sloshing dangerously in his glass. "I've been such a fool, Gem," he whispered, using the childhood nickname that never failed to tug at her heart. "Such an unmitigated, catastrophic fool."

"I'm sure whatever it is can be resolved," she soothed, though the conviction in her voice rang hollow even to her own ears.

William's laugh held an edge of hysteria. "Resolved? Oh, how I wish that were true." He took another fortifying sip of brandy before meeting her gaze directly. "I'm in debt, Gemma. Ruinous, devastating debt."

Though the words sent a jolt of dismay through her, Gemma maintained her composure. This was hardly the first time William had overextended himself at the gaming tables. "I already know that. Has it increased? And by how much?" she asked calmly.

William named a sum that made the blood drain from her face.

"Sweet heavens," she whispered, her mind reeling as she calculated the figure against what remained of her modest dowry. "William, how could you possibly—"

William had the grace to look ashamed. "I thought my luck must change. It always had before."

"Clearly not this time," Gemma observed, struggling to keep the exasperation from her voice.

This was far from the first time she had been called upon to extricate her brother from financial difficulties, though the scale of his current predicament dwarfed all previous incidents.

"I assume you've come to me for reassurance? "

"Not... not exactly," William replied, draining the last of his brandy before setting the glass aside with exaggerated care. "That is to say, not merely for that. I require funds."

Something in his tone sent a fresh wave of unease washing over Gemma. "Explain yourself, William. Plainly, if you please."

Her brother rose once more, his restlessness preventing him from remaining seated. “The obligations extend beyond my acquaintances at the club. You may recall that Thorne has acquired the majority of my outstanding notes.”

“Oh, William! I cautioned you against this. Your aim was to extricate yourself from his manipulation, not to furnish him with further leverage! This is far graver than I initially apprehended. Is Mr. Thorne demanding immediate recompense?” she inquired, a knot of worry tightening in her chest.

"If only the matter were so simple." William replied despondently. “He claims a willingness to absolve the debt entirely, in return for yet more… information.”

Gemma’s brow furrowed in bewilderment. “More information? Then simply provide it and free yourself from this entanglement.”

William's pacing grew more erratic, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "That's just it, Gemma. I don't possess it, not yet. Shipping routes, investment plans, contract negotiations... matters over that nature discussed over brandy and cigars in club rooms across London."

"He's using you as a spy, we know that, is there no way to disentangle you from this situation? Perhaps we can call the legal authorities?”

“That is not an option, Thorne has deep pockets, and a stronghold over the authorities.” William's arm gave a sudden, involuntary jerk, a sort of nervous habit.

"He keeps demanding more. Specific details about particular gentlemen and their business affairs.

And now..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the plush carpet.

"Now what, William?" Gemma pressed, a terrible suspicion forming in her mind.

"Now he wants information about your husband," William admitted in a rush, the words seeming to physically pain him. "About Lord Brokeshire's involvement with Hawthorne Trading Company."

The name struck Gemma like a physical blow.

Of course. Her husband’s company, where he was the majority shareholder.

Hawthorne Trading was the very business that had called Jameson away from breakfast, which occupied his study hours and prompted mysterious evening engagements at his " club .

" The connection she had been missing suddenly clicked into place with devastating clarity.

"That's why you were so eager for me to accept Lord Brokeshire's proposal," she accused, her voice hollow with disbelief. "Not out of concern for my reputation or our family's security, but because you saw an opportunity to gain access to his business affairs through me."

“Pray sister! This is most unjust of you to accuse me of something so sinister. “William exclaimed instantly, genuine distress twisting his features. Initially I had no desire for you to wed that… treacherous rake. Thorne’s inquiries regarding Brokeshire became more pointed after your betrothal was announced. Prior to that, his interest was less pronounced; there were other matters upon which he requested my… observations. But he seemed… unusually fixated on this particular match.”

Gemma sank back into her chair, her mind a whirlwind of unsettling possibilities. “And now you expect me to betray my husband’s trust to shield you from the repercussions of your own imprudence?”

“I am at my wit’s end, Gemma,” William confessed, dropping to his knees before her in a posture of supplication that, were it not for the raw desperation in his eyes, would have appeared a mere performance.

“Thorne grows impatient. He has threatened to demand immediate repayment of my debts if I do not produce results swiftly. And should that occur…”

“It would signify ruin,” Gemma finished, her tone flat. “For you, and for Mama. My efforts to secure our future through this matrimony would be rendered meaningless.”

William nodded miserably. “I have created such a muddle of everything. I came to you because… because you have always possessed the wisdom to navigate such difficulties. To mend my errors.”

But this is beyond fixing , Gemma thought, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

This is not a childhood scrape or a youthful indiscretion that can be smoothed over with an apology and a promise to do better.

This is betrayal on a grand scale, with consequences that extend far beyond our family.

“Is Mother aware of the severity of this? We have talked to her about it before, but is she aware of how much it has escalated since then?" she asked, already certain of the answer.

William shook his head vehemently. "Perish the thought. The shock would be the end of her. She has barely compartmentalized the shock of finding out about my grave situation from the day that your husband came to propose to you. "

Gemma closed her eyes briefly, gathering her scattered thoughts. When she opened them again, her gaze was clear and determined.

"Listen to me carefully, William," she said, her voice low and intense.

"You will tell Mr. Thorne that you require more time.

You will not, under any circumstances, provide him with information about Lord Brokeshire or Hawthorne Trading.

And you will speak of this to no one, not your friends, not your club companions, and certainly not Mother. Do you understand?"

"But what about the debt? I require the funds." William pressed. "He won't wait forever, Gemma."

"Leave that to me," she replied, though she was unsure if she wanted to give him money. "I need time to consider our options."

And to decide whether I dare approach Jameson with this information , she added silently. Whether I can trust him enough to reveal my brother's shameful predicament without destroying whatever fragile connection has begun to form between us.

William stared at her with something approaching awe. "How can you be so calm? If you knew what Thorne was like—the cold calculation in his eyes when he speaks—"

"I am fully aware! I have seen him, and have heard the rumours around him.

I am calm because one of us must be," Gemma interrupted, rising from her seat with renewed purpose.

"Now, you will accompany me back to Brokeshire House for tea, because the servants have surely already informed my husband of my absence, and it would help smoothen rumors if you came back with me.

You will smile and make pleasant conversation with my mother-in-law.

And you will give me your word as a gentleman—as Father's son that you will keep me updated with your life. I do not wish to find out about things after they have commenced.”

William scrambled to his feet, hope dawning in his eyes for the first time since his arrival. "You have it, Gem. Whatever you say."

As she watched her brother hurry to make himself presentable, straightening his cravat and attempting to tame his disheveled hair, Gemma felt the weight of responsibility settle even more heavily upon her shoulders.

How ironic , she thought with grim humor as she donned her gloves and pelisse.

I entered this matrimony hoping to secure my family's future, only to discover that the greatest threat to that future might be my own blood.

And now I must decide where my loyalty truly lies—with the brother who has been my companion since childhood, or the husband whose secrets I am only beginning to uncover.

The question haunted her as she and William departed for Brokeshire House, neither of them noticing the nondescript figure watching from across the street, who turned and disappeared into the afternoon crowd as soon as their carriage pulled away from the curb.