A Gentleman Never Tells(27)
“I do hope you find her. I know how upset I’d be if Brutus were missing.”
“I have no doubt Prissy will be found,” he said, seeming to casually brush aside her concern. “But to answer your other question, my brothers will be moving their shipbuilding business from Baltimore, Maryland, to London in the coming weeks. Your father made it quite clear to me that, if I didn’t marry you, he had many connections and would make it impossible for my brothers’ business to be successful. Moving their business to London won’t be easy, and I will not allow your father to add to their burden.”
She knew her father would have had his solicitor find out what he could about the viscount before the day was over. When the duke wanted something, he left no stone unturned. It struck her as odd that she and Lord Brentwood were more alike than she could have imagined. She was willing to sacrifice her reputation for her sister, and he was willing to sacrifice his freedom for his brothers’ success.
“So your father gets his wish, Lady Gabrielle. We will be married.”
Gabrielle shook her head in frustration. “I didn’t want to marry Staunton, but at least I was willing to until—”
Lord Brentwood’s brown eyes narrowed and questioned her. “Until what?”
She hesitated before saying, “Until recently, but none of that matters now. I certainly don’t want to marry you, and you don’t want to marry me.”
“Well, take heart, Lady Gabrielle, it looks as though you’ll have plenty of time to get to know me, as the duke said it will likely take weeks to untangle your previous betrothal agreement with Lord Austerhill’s son. As soon as that is done, we’ll post the banns.”
She pulled her shawl up closer around her neck and positioned herself where her back was to her father’s book room window and said, “Perhaps not. I have a plan, my lord.”
His eyes narrowed. “For what?”
“Us. Thankfully, Papa does have to sort out all the financial arrangements with Lord Austerhill and his son, so I propose we lead my father to believe we are in favor of this marriage and find a way to stall it even after all other matters are settled. We can then, sometime after Christmas but before the Season starts in the spring, come up with a reason to call off the wedding.”
Lord Brentwood’s face wrinkled into a frown, but she kept talking. “That way, come the new year, you will be free to pursue more willing young ladies. The scandal of our hasty engagement will have died down, and the gossips will have moved on to someone else’s unfortunate situation. I venture to say that, halfway through the Season, no one will even remember I was once engaged to you or Staunton.”
His golden-brown eyes seemed to burn into hers. A wrinkle of warning formed on his brow. “Did you not hear what I had to say about my brothers and moving their shipping business to London? Did you not hear me speak of your father’s threat to assure they would have no success in their business?”
She blinked rapidly at his sudden change. “Yes, of course I heard.”
“Then mark my word, Lady Gabrielle, we will be married as soon as it is legally possible. I don’t know how to make myself any plainer than that.”
She would have liked to tell him her father’s intimidation was no more of a threat than Brutus’s growl, but she would be lying. The duke would have no qualms about ruining the viscount’s brothers’ business in order to achieve his goals.
Lord Brentwood’s gaze scanned her face, down her neck to her breasts, and back to her eyes. He gave her a lopsided grin. “Besides my brothers’ plight, I’ll be thirty soon, and I could do worse than to marry a powerful duke’s daughter. You will no doubt know how to manage my home. And your father is making sure your dowry is quite substantial. It’s time for me to take a wife and produce an heir. Judging from our short time together in the park, you should do quite nicely for that and be the perfect wife for me.”
She gasped. “How dare you, my lord. That was a perfectly vulgar thing to say. That you should even suggest using me as a brood mare to bear your children sounds positively ghastly.”
He leaned his head in closer to hers and hooded his eyes with determination. “You may think so now, but once I get you beneath me, I will prove to you that you are no lady, Gabrielle. I will have you in my bed, and I promise you will not want to leave it.”
She shivered and hugged her woolen shawl more tightly around her. “You are being unbelievably ill-mannered, Lord Brentwood.”