The Earl of Davenport: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club #7)(19)

The kindness in his tone nearly undid her. She hadn’t been making it up. He wasn’t the horrid man he’d seemed to be in the carriage. But she hadn’t been making up his crude behavior in the carriage, either. Where had that man gone, the one who’d seemed intent to humiliate her?

Oh, she was so confused. Her earlier optimism and excitement warred with the overwhelming disappointment and betrayal she’d felt when in the carriage.

The devil and his bastard bride.

The confusion and hurt had her eyes swimming with tears once more as she reached for bread, hoping to shove down her silly tears with some food.

He sat across from her watching her eat with a concern that was truly sweet. No, he was not the devil. And he wasn’t an angel, either. Both of which she’d already known. He was a man, plain and simple. And by marrying her he was saving her family. With that thought in mind, she forced a smile and tried to tell the truth without revealing too much. “I will be all right, truly. I was a bit hurt earlier when I realized that you wanted to exploit the rumors about me—”

“It was wrong of me to say that,” he said. His voice was gruff and earnest and she looked up to see him looking remarkably contrite. She wished for a moment that her sister and the rest of the ton could see this man they called devil now. He looked no worse than a mischievous boy who’d misbehaved.

“But it was the truth,” she said with another shrug. Could she really fault him for his wanting to exploit her reputation when she was marrying to exploit his wealth and connections?

That thought brought another wave of misery. That romantic hue had well and truly faded by now and she was faced with the prospect of marrying a man who did not love her or possibly even like her. It was a fate she’d thought to avoid. It was Claire’s destiny, not hers, and she’d been content to let her sister bear that burden. Now, facing reality head on, she also had to face her own shame.

She was a hypocrite, pure and simple. The thought made her want to weep.

He must have seen it, though she thought she’d done a rather valiant job of keeping more tears at bay. He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Come now,” he said, his voice so low and gruff it made her tremble. “Marrying me isn’t so terrible, now is it?”

Yes, she wanted to say. But not for the reason he thought. When she didn’t immediately answer, his tone took on a disarmingly rueful tone. “I’ll have you know some consider me to be quite the catch.” His soft laugh sounded self-deprecating and his tone lacked his typical confidence. “Just ask any of the marriage-minded mothers in society.”

She tried to force a smile in return and failed, but she glanced up to meet his gaze when he sighed.

“I’ve been abominably selfish, haven’t I?”

She couldn’t speak for the tears that choked her. She shook her head but he continued with such a contrite expression it left her stunned. “I was, and I’m sorry. I only thought of how this marriage would benefit me and I didn’t think of your feelings.”

A laugh threatened to escape her but it came out as a sob.

Again, he’d gotten it all wrong.

Dropping his head, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Anne. Truly. I should have told you before that I would help your family without forcing you to marry me. I know it was selfish—”

She finally managed to cut him off, grasping his hand to stop him from speaking. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not upset because you were selfish.” She rolled her eyes and added, “Well, I was partly upset because of your reasons for marrying me, but it isn’t as though you tricked me. You didn’t declare your love for me or seduce me.”

He blinked at her, surprise clear in his eyes. Then his mouth hitched up and his voice lowered teasingly. “Would you like me to seduce you?”

She ignored the comment and tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks. “I may not like your reasons for marrying me rather than my sister, but I cannot blame you for being selfish when my family will benefit as well. Neither of us is marrying for purely selfless reasons. It would be the height of hypocrisy to call you selfish.”

Her speech started strong but ended with a shaky voice. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he held her hands in his. “What is it, Anne? Tell me what to do to make this right.”

She sniffled. “It’s not you. It’s… oh dear. Now I’m crying.”

He smiled up at her, his brows raised. “I hate to tell you this but you have been crying from the moment I entered.”

She scowled. “Yes, but now I am really crying. There’s no hope of stopping the flood once it has started.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Do you want to tell me what’s troubling you? It would be much easier for me to fix things if I knew what was the matter.”

She pressed her lips together to hold back a wail. His kindness was making her feel even worse.

He sighed. “I was not lying when I said you would make a fine countess. I do realize that I am a selfish ass, but—”

The wail escaped as she stood abruptly and moved to stand in front of the mirror. She instantly wished she hadn’t. The sight of her red nose did little to cheer her. “The problem is I’m the selfish one.”

She heard him stand from his chair and approach from behind. The words were hanging in the air between them and she half expected a scolding. It was what she deserved. Instead she heard his low, rumbling laughter as he came to stand behind her.