but clear.
“Yes. I am r-ruined.” She swallowed, amazed at how difficult it had been to say so little.
“Not ruined,” Lady Exley chimed in, but then bit her lower lip after a sharp look from her son. “I am sorry, Jibril. Perhaps you would like some time to speak together alone?”
Gabriel looked at Drusilla. “Would you like me to ring for your maid?”
“No, that will not be necessary.”
The marquess helped his wife to her feet. “We shall give you a few moments’ privacy.” The door clicked softly shut behind them, and they were alone.
Chapter 5
Gabriel wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting—eyes red-rimmed from crying? He should have known better. Miss Drusilla Clare was not a woman to be overset by much—apparently not even a forced marriage to a man she openly despised.
She gazed across at him, her face pale but composed.
“I am sure you know what tonight means?”
“I know my reputation is ruined and I will be ostracized. Unless . . .” She let the sentence dangle.
Her pale face blushed wildly, and Gabriel wondered what she was thinking.
She chewed her lip and then blurted, “It doesn’t seem fair that you should be punished for saving me from my foolishness, Mr. Marlington.”
Gabriel had been thinking the same thing, but it was hardly politic to say it. “I would be honored to marry you. I would—”
She laughed and the sound was bitter. “Please, we both know that is a lie. If you had any intention of marrying at all this year—which I doubt—it would have been Miss Kittridge you would have honored.”
Gabriel met her cool gray stare and realized her obsession with bluestocking causes was not the only way in which she differed from other young women. Miss Clare did not like her truths to be sugarcoated. So be it.
“While it is true we might not be each other’s first choice for marriage—”
She snorted.
Gabriel ignored the flare of irritation he experienced and continued. “I’m afraid we are the only choice we have.”
She eyed him shrewdly. “There is another way.”
Hope flared in his breast. “And what is that?”
“If you give up the duel, I’ll release you from any obligation to marry me.”
It was Gabriel’s turn to snort. “I’m not sure you understand what has happened, Miss Clare. Visel has attacked a woman in my care—” She opened her mouth, but he raised his hand. “Yes, you were under my care. Not only has he insulted you, but he was unpardonably cruel to Eva. He has, in short, exhibited behavior no gentleman should tolerate. But the most compelling reason for our nuptials is the rumor currently making the rounds: that you and I were trysting in the conservatory and Visel interrupted us—hence my behavior toward him. If he’d not challenged me, ma’am, I would have challenged him.”
Drusilla did know about the rumor that had, amazingly, been in circulation before their carriage had even come for them. “But Eva knows the truth. She’s our witness and would say what really happened.”
“Please, Miss Clare. I think you know that would never wash. Whether there is a duel or not is irrelevant: we must marry.”
She pursed her lips, her expression not entirely convinced. Her eyes flickered back to his, and her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. “I’m a very wealthy woman, Mr. Marlington. I could carve out a solitary existence of sorts and weather this scandal alone.”
“You could,” Gabriel admitted. He waited for her to think through her suggestion.
“But it would make life difficult for you, wouldn’t it?”
He gave her a wry smile, and she glanced away.
“Difficult is not the word I would use, Miss Clare. My reputation—such as it is—would be in tatters for debauching an innocent female under my care and then abandoning her. And then there is Eva. My sister loves both of us and she is loyal beyond reason, beyond self-preservation—to a fault, in other words. She would never shun you or give up your friendship—no matter how society regarded you. I’m not sure there is a chance of her ever marrying, but if there was, that chance would diminish if she maintained her association with you.”
Rather than argue the matter—which Gabriel had expected—her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. “I understand.”
Gabriel began to get to his feet, but her voice stopped him.
“If I agree to marry—will you give up the duel?” She was staring down at her clasped hands rather than at him.
Gabriel chuckled, and her head jerked up.
Her flush, which had receded during their discussion of Eva, flared with a vengeance.