A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords #1)(23)

He just couldn’t think of one at this particular moment.





Chapter Seven





Claire’s brief moment of peace was shattered by the sound of a roar coming from the other side of the door.

“No?”

She recognized that voice. In fact, she knew it well. That was Davenport—her brother-in-law and the man her sister had hoped she would marry.

Before she married him herself, of course. The Clevelands always did have a knack for doing things the wrong way, and of making life more complicated than it need be. Perhaps they had all inherited their father’s propensity for causing trouble. After all, he was the one who had initially linked their name with scandal with his widespread philandering and his illegitimate children.

Perhaps scandal ran in their blood. That was the best explanation she could come up with for her behavior tonight. But at least her scandal had gone unnoticed—or at least she presumed it had.

Surely she would have heard by now if anyone had seen her antics. If nothing else, she would have noticed whispers and stares, would she not?

Not if your attention was ensnared by your devilish rake, that helpful voice pointed out.

She heard another voice now outside the door yet no one had tried to enter. What was going on out there? Rising reluctantly from her seat, she headed toward the door to see what the commotion was about.

Her steps faltered when she heard her name mentioned and she stopped altogether when she recognized the second voice.

Galwin.

Why were Galwin and Davenport discussing her and in such heated voices? But before she could even finish forming the question in her mind, she knew the answer.

As if to confirm the point, she heard Davenport’s voice, loud and clear and filled with disbelief. “Are you saying you are in love with Claire?”

She nearly laughed aloud at the thought. But she found she could not laugh because her breath had caught in her throat as she waited for his answer. She took a hurried step toward the door until she was pressed against it, but even that close, his voice was muffled on the other side.

She was being ridiculous. Of course he did not love her. Clearly Davenport had heard a rumor and had gotten the wrong idea.

Sure enough, when she finally caught some of Galwin’s speech it was exactly what she would expect. “Did you not imply earlier that you would force me to propose if the rumors were true?”

She steadied herself against the door, pressing her forehead to the cold wood as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Somehow being proven right did not feel as satisfying as one might hope.

This was exactly what she’d feared—what they’d feared. That they would be caught and forced to marry.

And it was all her fault.

Guilt warred with other emotions she hesitated to acknowledge, let alone name. For if she did she would have to face the fact that perhaps she had let Anne’s romantic notions affect her, after all. That maybe, despite her words to the contrary, she had allowed herself to believe that perhaps there was such a thing as love and that maybe she stood a chance to find it. Oh, she still knew it was a thing of fairytales but between watching Anne and Davenport, and listening to Galwin’s words of belief…

Oh all right, and that kiss. That kiss had opened her eyes to just how overwhelming and…well, just how convincing those natural urges could be.

But it was just natural urges, she reminded herself. And what Anne had found was a stroke of luck, not the type of thing she’d ever allowed herself to wish for, let alone expect.

Leaning against the door, she tucked those hopes away again, back into the deep dark corners of her heart where they belonged.

Galwin’s voice came through the door, noble and resigned. “I will ask Claire to marry me.”

She winced. It was so obvious what this argument was about. Despite his noble words earlier about marrying her if they were caught, Galwin was being strong-armed into proposing to her.

More snippets of the conversation filtered through and she hardened herself against the pain of humiliation and shame…and guilt. None of these emotions were terribly new—she’d spent a lifetime living with her father’s shame, of feeling the guilt and responsibility of being the family’s last great hope. It was not hard to push the emotions aside so that when Galwin entered she was composed and seated, even managing a look of mild surprise at his sudden entrance.

“Galwin, what are you doing here?” All right, perhaps that was a bit much, but Galwin seemed too focused on his own thoughts to critique her performance.

He cleared his throat and came to stand before her. The feeling that she was an actress on stage grew out of proportion and she half expected to hear the sound of applause as she gestured for him to take a seat across from her, as though they were meeting over tea and not in a darkened study after having a passionate interlude just hours before.

“Claire,” he started, his low voice unusually serious. “There is a matter of great importance that I wish to discuss.”

She just barely held back her sigh. Yes, yes. We have been caught. My rash actions have ruined us both. One night of adventure and I have destroyed—

He cleared his throat. “I have…feelings for you.”

She blinked at him. “Pardon me?”

He couldn’t be serious. But he looked serious. Grim, almost. He also looked… determined.