A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords #1)(38)

If there was another way to save her reputation she ought to know about it, at the very least. She deserved to have a choice.

“I grew suspicious of the baron when he suddenly took an interest in Claire at the precise moment it became known that her dowry had increased,” he said. “I asked around and sure enough, the baron needs money.” His lips turned down in another frown. “Badly.”

“I see,” he said slowly. And he did see. Everyone knew the baron had been the one to make claims about them coming out of the garden together. No one else had come forward to support these charges, so it was his word against theirs.

If he could be persuaded to change his story—by say, Galwin’s father, the duke, and the Earl of Davenport—it might be believed that he had acted out of jealousy. It would not restore Claire’s reputation entirely, but she would not be completely ruined either.

Not if he and her family swore to it that the baron had been a jealous, jilted suitor and he had proposed to save her reputation. Hell, he could really sell the story by playing up his devilish reputation and say that he had seized the opportunity to force her into marriage. He could spin a tale about his selfish ardent love that would make the women of the ton swoon, turning their failed engagement into some sort of epic love story.

An unrequited love story.

He could see it all as he sat there before Jed’s censorious stare. It was clear to him how it could and would unfold, if they played their cards right. He’d spent a lifetime learning how to drop innuendos and how to woo women with words. He could make them believe his story even if it wasn’t true.

But the sad fact was, there was more truth to it than he cared to admit.

Jed seemed to be waiting for an answer. Pushing his chair away from the desk he came to stand. “I need to discuss this with Claire.”

Jed nodded but his eyes were still filled with judgement. “Do not let her fool you, Galwin. My sister has been raised to do what is expected of her, but she deserves more.”

Galwin nodded as he headed toward the door. Jed was right, and he knew it better than anyone. He’d known since that fateful night what it was that Claire truly wanted, and it wasn’t him.

What she wanted was freedom.

And now there was a chance he could give that to her, but at what cost?

He knew the answer by the pain in his chest. He could give her that freedom at the cost of losing his heart.





Chapter Eleven





By the time Nicholas entered the drawing room, Claire had grown testy with impatience. Where have you been? she wanted to snap. She’d heard him arrive ages ago and had been waiting with growing anxiety as each second passed.

She was nervous beyond all measure. This conversation could determine her future more surely than anything else had up until this point.

Her stomach refused to obey her commands to settle itself and now she pressed a hand to her belly as if that might calm it. Her body seemed to be acting unruly ever since she’d made her decision to confront him with the kind of brutal honesty she expected from this marriage.

Honesty was what she wanted so she needed to give it first. Still, knowing all that did little to ease her churning stomach as Nicholas lifted her hand to kiss it.

That set off a new flurry of sensations, none of which were unpleasant. They were overwhelming and oddly familiar after weeks of this sort of flirtation. Her heart raced as a fever seemed to grip her, making rational thought that much more difficult.

Not for the first time since deciding upon this course of action, Claire had the unsettling sensation that her mind, body, and heart were in the midst of a war.

It was uncertain who was winning.

At this particular moment, her body was in the lead as his closeness made it difficult to breathe, let alone form rational thoughts. He looked too handsome for his own good, as always, but she caught something in his gaze she’d never seen before.

It was something like…uncertainty.

Was it possible he was growing weary of this farce just as she was? Perhaps he was ready to stop pretending that this was anything more than a forced match. Maybe it was the perfect timing to have the sort of honest, upfront conversation she had planned.

She caught that flicker of uncertainty again and this time her heart halted its work altogether as a new possibility occurred to her.

Perhaps he had already grown tired of her.

“Claire,” he said as she led them toward the seating area. “You look lovely as always.”

She ducked her head to hide her blush, another one of her body’s silly, unwanted responses to Nicholas and his flattery.

She barely managed to keep her head as she poured tea and made the appropriate responses to his idle chatter regarding the weather. Once they were both seated with tea in hand, she turned toward Georgie, who was pretending to busy herself with needlepoint in the corner.

With one short nod, Georgie hurried into action. A subtle family they were not. “Oh, would you look at that?” her sister declared far too loudly as she held up her work. “It seems I’ve run out of thread. How silly of me.” She looked to Nicholas. “Will you excuse me a moment? I will be back shortly.”

Georgie, the chaperone of a mother’s worst nightmares, scurried out the door without so much as a backward glance.

Nicholas’s lips were curved up in a small smile as he turned back to face her. “What was all that about?”