Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,15

more unpredictable than average.

Eva sniffed and gave a watery chuckle. “You are right, of course. Gabe will thrash him.” She sat up and met Dru’s eyes, her own red-rimmed from crying, which made Drusilla feel like even more of a beast since she had not shed so much as a tear for the man who’d come to her rescue. She couldn’t help herself—she felt far more angry and guilty than grateful. Because all she could think about was the fact that she’d not only met her fate in that conservatory, but she’d condemned Gabriel Marlington along with her.

Eva was too impetuous to have realized what tonight meant, and Drusilla did not want to be the one to tell her. She’d wait until the summons came.Who knew, perhaps there would be a miracle intervention and she’d be saved.

You want it. You want him more than life itself, her conscience accused. It’s Gabriel who will be punished, not you.

Drusilla knew that was true—there was no denying it. She couldn’t even console herself with the argument that he would gain possession of her money. After all, the Kitten was wealthier, more beautiful, charming, and everything else a man could want. And now he would have to settle for plain, tall, gawky, and surly Drusilla.

There was a light tap on the door before a maid poked her head into the room. “Your presence is requested in the drawing room, Miss Clare.”

Eva stood, but the maid shook her head. “Lord Exley said only Miss Clare, my lady.”

Drusilla forced herself to smile. “I shall be fine, Eva.”

“I could come—Father would—”

“No. You should wait here. But thank you for the offer.”

“Very well. But, please, send for me if . . .” She shrugged. “Well, if you have need of me.” Eva threw up her hands. “If anybody has need of me.”

* * *

Lord and Lady Exley and Gabriel awaited her in the drawing room. Gabriel was looking out the window, his hands lightly clasped behind his back.

The marquess gestured to a chair across from his wife. “Please have a seat, Miss Clare.”

Drusilla had always been a little frightened of Eva’s father. Not that she believed he would hurt her, but rather because he was so very . . . perfect.

Lady Exley fluttered toward her in the graceful way she had and settled beside her on the settee, taking Drusilla’s hand in her much smaller ones. She was dainty and tiny and as perfect as her husband. She was also quite pregnant. Guilt welled up in her at the trouble she’d caused them all by embroiling Lady Exley’s son in a duel because of her foolish actions.

Gabriel came to sit across from Drusilla, his face unreadable. “How is your aunt, Miss Clare?”

“She feels dreadful, of course. And responsible. But I refuse to hold her to blame. I knew she was ill, but I also knew it meant a great deal to her to be involved with this Season. I should have put my foot down when I saw how much these late evenings took out of her, but—”

Lady Exley chafed Drusilla’s hand reassuringly between hers. “You did not want to make her feel rejected or redundant because you are kind. We understand that, Drusilla.”

Drusilla glanced at the two men, both of whom looked as if they were very far from understanding such a decision. But they were men, rulers of their domains, not women who must depend on the kindness of others.

“Would you like to wait until your aunt is well enough to join us?” the marquess asked.

She shook her head. “I understand the matter is somewhat. . . urgent. She’s already indicated to me, on the ride from the ball, that she understands the gravity of the situation.” Drusilla did not relate what her aunt—the guardian of her trust—had actually said: that she would approve the union between Gabriel and Drusilla and advise the other trustees to do likewise, a necessary step according to the terms of Drusilla’s father’s will. At least if she wished to accede to her fortune before the age of thirty.

“She’s given me permission to speak for myself, my lord. Of course, I have men of business to see to my affairs, so . . .” She let that hang, not wishing to state the obvious: that she would be well represented when it came to the marriage contract.

Lord Exley traded a look with his stepson, who nodded.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the scandal we are facing, Miss Clare?” Gabriel’s voice was subdued,