A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords #1)(25)

“Not all of that,” she said. “But enough.”

He studied her again, his expression unreadable as he seemed to seek out some answer in her eyes. “You do not know the whole story, Claire. I am not as selfless as you might believe. There is more going on here and I need you to know—”

“What don’t I know?” Even as she asked the question, her mind raced to find the answer. Perhaps there was more to it. Maybe she was thinking too highly of him to believe that he would leap into matrimony merely to save her.

She studied him the way he had done to her and she saw his honesty there. A hint of guilt, even, as though he had a secret.

Perhaps there was more going on here. But what could he have to gain?

And then it clicked. The answer came to her so simply she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. “My dowry.”

She turned her gaze up to meet his and saw his eyes widen in surprise.

She had guessed right, she was sure of it. It all made sense. He was a second son, and while she was certain he had a decent income, she also knew that he frequented the same sort of gaming establishments that Jed had.

Of course. He had fallen on hard times just like her brother. And she was the golden goose who had just been handed to him.

She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze any longer. There was no need to be so maudlin about it. It wasn’t as though he had forced himself on her.

She was still the one who had gotten them into this mess, and she could hardly blame him for trying to make the most out of a bad circumstance.

With that thought, she forced a smile she did not feel. “It is quite all right.”

He frowned. “It is?”

“Of course. You need money and I require a husband to salvage my reputation.”

He frowned, pulling his lips together into a thin line, but he did not deny it. That in itself was all the answer she needed. She found herself blinking rapidly as she tried to steady her breathing.

Too much had happened too quickly. She was having a hard time adjusting, that was all. But knowing that didn’t help ease the tightness in her chest.

It was absurd, really. Why should she be so emotional? She had spent a lifetime preparing to wed for money and title. Now here she was marrying for money—but she was the one with the fortune.

It was humorous. She should be laughing, really.

“Claire, are you all right?”

His low, surprisingly familiar voice pulled her out of her reverie. She forced another smile, this time not nearly as genuine. “Yes, of course.”

And she would be, she was sure of it. She had to be. This was for the best. He would get the money he so clearly needed, she would have her reputation intact and hopefully the family that she so desperately craved.

It wasn’t as though she’d ever expected a love match and Galwin was surely a better option than Swattle or any of the other elderly men she’d been dangerously close to marrying before.

The prospect of marrying those decrepit old men had filled her with disgust, but Galwin…

She looked up at him now, with his high-cut cheekbones and his strong jaw. There was nothing unappealing about this man physically.

Oh, who was she fooling? He was attractive to the extreme. Even now she was hard-pressed to resist moving closer. Some primal instinct made her feel needy around him. She wanted to press her body against his and find his lips once more.

If only he would kiss her again like he had back in that alley, maybe then she could forget the fact that he was a rake. Maybe she could drown out the fear and heartache that made her insides tremble. For this was what she’d always feared more than any repulsive husband in her bed or any lecherous old man.

She had feared this—marrying a man who tempted her. A man who made her feel things. A man who would take what he needed from her before discarding her for a younger woman, or a more exciting woman. A man who would forget all about her and his family.

A man exactly like her father.

For her father too had been handsome and dashing, just like Galwin. Her mother had told her stories about how she had fallen head over heels for the gallant gentleman with the large fortune. She’d been the daughter of an earl and could have had her pick of titles.

But she’d opted to marry the wealthy landowner out of love. And look what that had gotten her? If her father had ever loved her mother in return, that love had faded long before Claire was old enough to see it. All she’d seen was her mother’s sadness, her cold, detached reserve when confronted with the living proof of his infidelities.

Sweet, romantic Anne had always pitied Claire for her lot in life—the sacrificial lamb, that was what Anne had always called her. Anne had always been a romantic sort, dreaming of a day when she might marry for love. But that was exactly what Claire had wished to avoid.

And you are avoiding it, she reminded herself now. She was not in love with Galwin. And though there might be a temptation to think well of him, what with his kindness and his dashing looks, she could fortify herself against it.

Knowledge was power, that was another of her mother’s favorite sayings. Of course, her mother had typically been referring to a knowledge of the peerage and their gossip. But the saying still applied to this situation.

She knew that he was a charmer—all of the ton knew that to be true. Just like she knew that he was handsome and thoughtful and his closeness made her pulse race.