Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,37
life henceforth.
Thinking about Theo brought back memories of their surprising—and rather unpleasant—discussion after Gabriel had left.
“My God, Drusilla—that man is—is, well, he is a barbarian. He is one of those responsible for terrorizing Christians in the Mediterranean, for ransoming captives—for raping Englishwomen.” He’d paused in order to let the full horror of his words sink in. “He is a slaver, Drusilla. Surely you cannot think to marry such a man.”
Rather than cause her to feel shame, his words had angered her. “You are doing nothing but rumormongering, Theo. Mr. Marlington had the support of Baron Ramsay, a man famous for his hatred of the slave trade. I find it hard to believe Lord Ramsay would countenance slavery, don’t you?”
Theo had shrugged that off. “Perhaps everything you’ve heard about Ramsay is mere rumormongering, as well.”
“Mr. Marlington’s sister, Lady Eva, assures me my fiancé was fighting for a new future for his people—one that didn’t rely on slavery.”
“Of course she does; she is his sister. Besides, everyone knows she is—”
“Theo.”
He’d lifted his hand in a gesture of placation. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” His expression said he thought otherwise. “Even if what she says about her brother is true, the man was reared in an environment where women were less than things, not even worthy of taking the sacrament of marriage for. It is said his father had over a hundred—well, one can’t call them wives.” He stopped and eyed her.
Her lips had twisted into an unpleasant smile. “Oh, and Englishmen behave so much better toward women? It is more civil and pleasant to marry one woman and keep others as mistresses, is it? Or to behave like the Regent, who married that poor Fitzherbert woman and denies it whenever it is convenient for him?”
He’d opened his mouth, looked into her eyes, and then shut it. Drusilla had just known he’d been about to mention Gabriel’s notorious union and thought better of it.
But then he’d veered onto another subject. “You know his mother was never—”
“Do not, Theo. Do not say what you are going to say.” Drusilla had been stunned by the force of her anger. “These people are to be my family. And the woman you are about to disparage survived unthinkable conditions.”
Theo’s pale face had darkened. “You’re correct, Drusilla. Please, forgive me. In my zeal to convince you, I’ve behaved badly.” He’d taken her hand again, but this time she’d pulled it away; his touch hadn’t been nearly as comforting after he’d exposed his prejudice. “You do not need to marry him to save your reputation—marry me, instead.”
Drusilla had been flabbergasted by his desperate expression and passionate tone. But she had been even more shocked by her immediate, and visceral, response to his offer: she did not want to marry Theo. The truth—the painful truth—was that she wanted to marry Gabriel Marlington. Drusilla wanted him. And, at the end of the day, she didn’t care if he loved another woman. She knew such a thought doomed her to a well-deserved life of misery. But she simply did not care. Meanwhile, she’d needed to come up with a response that didn’t crush her friend.
“I—I can’t, Theo, although I do appreciate your offering to sacrifice yourself and—”
He’d seized her hand again. “It is no sacrifice, my darling. I have a confession to make—I’ve loved you almost since we first began working together. In my eyes, you’re the perfect woman. Together we might—”
She’d yanked her hand away. “Theo, please recall where we are.”
He’d glanced round the teahouse, as if only now noticing they weren’t alone, and hung his head. “Forgive me—I’ve behaved like a fool. It’s just that I’m terrified our good work will now stop.” When he’d looked up, his eyes had been anguished. “And as to the other . . . Well, I do hold you in high regard, Drusilla—the highest. Together we would be such a marvelous team. We could continue your plans and even expand them. We could establish houses for poor women and children in every town and city in Britain. I love you, Drusilla, and I—”
She’d leaned back in her chair, deeply uncomfortable with his declaration and not wishing him to repeat it. “I’m engaged to be married, Theo. Please say no more on the topic.”
His cheeks were flaming red. “Yes . . . of course. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you. And even though I will be married, I’ll never abandon our work, Theo. You should know that.