The truth of Alex’s accusation ran through him. Gabriel took a deep breath and rubbed his palm along his forehead. “You are indeed correct,” he said, tiredly. With last night’s scandal, he’d jeopardized Chloe’s name and fueled gossip about a woman who’d already been scorned since birth.
“Feeling something does not make you weak, Gabriel,” his brother said quietly, all dry mirth gone from his expression and words. “It makes you human.”
Human. To be human meant to be weak and broken and battered. It meant one hurt and he wanted no part of any of it. “Regardless,” he infused an edge of steel to his words. “My actions with Ja…” His brother gave him a pointed look. “With Mrs. Munroe, last evening were unpardonable.”
“I daresay you are permitted the use of Christian names with last evening’s…” Gabriel’s lips twitched. “Er, activities.”
Annoyance stirred. How could the other man be so casual and amused by the muck Gabriel had made of the Edgerton name…and Jane?
Alex leaned forward once more and rested his palms on his knees. “I have never, in the course of my life, known you to be anything but devoted and loyal to the Edgerton name.”
Recently, those words would have been a stinging accusation from the younger brother who’d blamed him for failing their siblings. And rightly so. Now, however, with a recent understanding reached between them, they’d moved into an easier peace. Oh, their friendship would never be fully restored to the uncomplicated, wholly loving one they’d known before their father’s influence. But they had rekindled a friendship and, in a world where Gabriel was remarkably without anyone but Lord Waterson, he’d have his brother’s friendship.
Gabriel swiped his glass and took another sip. “Regardless, I’ve dishonored the Edgerton name.” He didn’t give a jot about the name that could burn in hell with his father’s vile soul for all he cared.
“Do you truly expect me to believe you care so very much about the marquisate?” There was a gentle prodding there that hinted at accusing Gabriel of being the liar he was.
He gave a brusque shake of his head. “No, you are correct.” Alex had proven correct about far more than he’d ever credited through the years. He drew in a breath. “I care about Chloe’s opportunity to make a match.”
Alex frowned. “And what of your Mrs. Munroe?”
“She is not my Mrs. Munroe.” He would have had her as his wife to do the honorable thing and right his wrong. But the lady had been abundantly clear in her feelings of that prospective state. He’d never before met another soul who disavowed marriage in quite the same manner—perhaps they suited better than he’d ever credited.
His brother snorted and leaned back in his chair. “I daresay a woman who makes you forget yourself, in the midst of an opera hall, before all Society, is at the very least something to you.” He looped an ankle across his knee.
“Do not be preposterous,” he scoffed. “It is not possible.”
“And why is it not possible?”
His mind went blank. “It… because…” He closed his mouth. “Because it just isn’t,” he managed to force out. Bloody hell, he felt like a blasted green boy. Gabriel tugged at his suddenly too-tight cravat. A relationship with Jane was as preposterous as…well, he wasn’t sure just what it was as preposterous as, just that it was.
His brother continued relentlessly. “I expect being wedded to the lady will at the very least result in…er…more, at some point.”
That brought Gabriel blessedly back to the reason for Alex’s presence. He squared his shoulders and regained control of his tumultuous thoughts. “That is why I’ve asked you to come. We will not be marrying.”
Alex opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a fish plucked from the sea. “What?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “We will not be marrying.”
His brother’s eyebrows dipped. “Alas, if you’ve brought me by with the intentions of righting your wrong, my marriage to Imogen prevents any such assistance,” he said in ill jest.
Contained within the depths of his green eyes, there was so much disappointment and disgust that Gabriel shifted. It should not matter what his brother believed or didn’t about Gabriel and yet, it did. He’d not have this man whom he’d just reestablished a connection with, believe he’d not at the very least try and do right by Jane. “It is…I offered,” he bit out.
“And she said no?” Shock underscored Alex’s question.
He nodded once, recalling Jane as she’d been last evening, bold and proud and wholly uninterested in marriage to him. “And she said no, which is why you are here.” Gabriel slid his gaze to the closed door and then returned his focus to Alex. He found his brother watching him with curiosity with eyes that may as well have been a mirror of Gabriel’s as similar as they were. “The lady has no interest in marriage.” To me. An inexplicable pressure squeezed his chest. Why should that matter?
“I would say the lady is a bit past that decision.”
And yet, it did.
“I never expected you to become this proper gentleman,” he said with droll humor.
“I know.” Alex grinned. “Love does peculiar things to a fellow.”
In an unexpected moment of camaraderie, they shared a smile. Then Gabriel recalled what brought him by. His grin slipped. “I need you to take her.”
His brother cocked his head.
Gabriel sighed. He was blundering this. “I need you and Imogen to allow the lady to remain with you until I speak to her father.”
Alex stilled and then a sharp bark of laughter escaped him. He slapped his hand upon his knee and laughed so hard tears seeped from his eyes. “Th-the lady’s father? You’ve gone mad.”
Gabriel bristled. At least one of them could find humor in anything after last night’s disastrous turn of events. “She is the Duke of Ravenscourt’s daughter,” he bit out on a tense whisper.
That brought an immediate cessation to Alex’s laughter. He snapped a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off his cheek. “Beg pardon?”
What was so really difficult to follow about the admission? He glanced about. “She is…” He frowned, torn between explaining why he required Alex’s support and protecting Jane’s secrets. “She is illegitimate.” A memory flashed to mind of her, as she’d been when she’d made that very admission, embarrassed, braced for his disdain. Gabriel took another long swallow of his drink.
Dawning understanding lit Alex’s eyes. “Ahh.”
An overwhelming urge to knock his brother on his bloody arse for that single syllable utterance filled him. He planted his elbows on the edge of his desk. “What?” he snapped.
Alex held his palms up. “I did not say anything.”
“He has settled funds upon her,” he continued on, opting not to debate the telling “ahh” Alex had uttered. “The lady desires her independence. She can no longer stay here.” As it was, she should have never returned home with him and Chloe. However, the world had been so topsy-turvy last evening the rights and wrongs of her being here had been lost to confusion.
Liar. You did not want to send her away. Now, he had no choice but to send her away—for her protection. For Chloe’s. For his. Every moment they spent together jeopardized the order and calm of his world and his very existence.
“I see,” Alex, said, suddenly all seriousness. And by the understanding glint in his eyes, he did very well see.
“She requires but a temporary place.” Gabriel consulted the long-case clock once more. “I have a meeting shortly with the duke and will inform him,” that I ruined his daughter. That she has nowhere to go. That she will not have me. “That she requires his assistance.” He shoved back his chair and stood.
Alex took that as his cue to leave for he came to his feet. “I will, of course, assist in any way you require.”
He flexed his jaw, uncomfortable with the emotion from his brother who’d treated him with nothing more than icy disdain through the years. “Thank you,” he said sti
ffly.
Alex gave him a gentle smile. “You still have not realized it, have you?”
He looked questioningly at his younger sibling.
“We help those we love. There is no chore in that.” He gave a slight bow. “I will send my carriage around to collect Mrs. Munroe.”
“Thank…” At Alex’s pointed glance, he allowed those words to go unfinished. He inclined his head. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m to speak to Jane before my meeting with the duke.”
“Mrs. Munroe.” Alex winked.
Perplexed, Gabriel glanced about for the lady in question.
His brother chuckled. “I suspect you care a good deal more than you would admit to even yourself,” he said and pulled the door open.
Jane stood at the entrance, her fist poised to rap on the wooden panel. And for the hell of last evening and the uncertainty of today, a lightness filled his chest at seeing her there, wide-eyed like a night-owl frightened from its perch.
Effortlessly charming as he’d always been, Alex sketched a bow. “Mrs. Munroe. It is a pleasure to meet once again.” He stepped aside, permitting her entry.
However, Jane, wholly unlike any other woman he’d ever before known, only eyed Alex with a healthy dose of suspicion. “Lord Alexander,” she greeted as she fell into a deep curtsy.
Then, those of his and Alex’s stations had given her little reason to trust. Her father, Montclair….how many others?
Alex slipped past her and left. Which also left Gabriel and Jane—alone. They stood there a long moment studying one another with her framed in the doorway, the panel open at her back. He cleared his throat and motioned her inside. “There are matters we should speak on, Mrs. Munroe.”
Chapter 19
She’d received his summons early that morning. Jane had spent the better part of two hours since, both dreading the exchange and looking forward with an inexplicable anticipation of seeing him again. She told herself that after the chaos of last evening’s scandal, he was familiar. He was the one constant in this cold, uncertain world she’d entered. Yet, in this instance, standing across the large, wide space of his office, with him looking at her through those hooded, black lashes, she was Mrs. Munroe.
Of course he should refer to her as Mrs. Munroe. Or Miss Munroe. But never Jane. So why did she, hovering at the edge of his office, miss hearing her name uttered in his mellifluous baritone?
“Mrs. Munroe?” he prodded gently.
She jumped and entered his office. “Forgive me,” she said hurriedly. “My lord?” She dropped a curtsy.
A frown toyed at the hard line of his lips. Did he, too, crave the once familiar uses of their Christian names?
Gabriel strode across the expansive space, his large-legged stride ate away the distance between them and he came to a stop in front of her. His gaze fell to her lips and then slowly he reached an arm out. For a maddening moment she thought he’d kiss her. Her breath caught as she tilted her head back, but he merely closed the door behind her. Disappointment swirled inside, proving yet again she was her mother’s daughter. “I will not take up your time, Mrs. Munroe,” he said with an aloofness she only remembered from their first handful of meetings.
She shifted back and forth. “My lord?”
He stalked back to his desk and motioned her forward. “Please, sit.”
How could he be so dispassionate following everything that had transpired? After he’d had his hand upon her thigh, his lips upon her skin? She wet her lips and took a cautious step and then another but did not take the proffered seat. Instead, she hovered at the leather winged back chair at the foot of his desk. “I prefer to stand, my lord.”
He snapped his dark eyebrows together with a slight scowl on his face. Good, so he was not unaffected. He was just far more adept at maintaining falsities than she, the deplorable, caught-in-a-lie companion that Jane was. “Very well,” he said from behind his desk. “Your trunks are being readied. I have spoken with my brother. He and his wife have agreed to allow you to visit until,” he waved a hand about, “this situation has sorted itself out.”
This situation. That was all she’d ever been. To the mother who’d loved a duke. To the duke who’d no need of illegitimate issue. Now to Gabriel. Why did this one hurt the most? Her throat worked with the force of her swallow. Then his words registered. “You are sending me away.” She flinched at how very pathetic those words were.
Gabriel tugged out his watch fob and consulted the timepiece. “I have a meeting with the duke shortly, at which time I shall speak to him of your funds. In the interim, it is best for all,” For Chloe. His innocent, unwed sister was the one requiring protection. “If you remain with my brother and his family.” He stuffed the intricate gold piece back into his waistcoat pocket.
“Of course,” she said stiffly. She smoothed her palms over her skirts. “Is there anything else you require?”
He shook his head. “That is all. I will visit following my meeting with the duke.”
The duke. Her father. The same man who’d had to deal with the scrapes Jane had landed herself in through the years by shuffling her about to various posts, at her inability to hold whichever one he’d secured through his influence.
From the moment she’d stolen the missive from Mrs. Belden’s office, this parting had been inevitable. Gabriel’s magnanimity in light of her deception and the trouble she’d brought to his family was far more than she deserved. Yet, there was an agony of regret in knowing she would leave—Chloe—him.
But there would be her school and that would fuel her and sustain her. It would give her purpose and be the constant in her life. She pulled her shoulders back. “I would thank you for your kindness, particularly with my,” her cheeks warmed. “My lying to you.” She prided herself on the stable deliverance of those humiliating words.
He rose and came around the desk so she was forced to crane her neck back to look at him. “You need not thank me, Jane,” he said gently.
She blamed dust for the sudden tears that popped behind her lids. Which was, of course, silliness. The marquess did not have dust. Not in his well-tended home. But then, why would she be crying? “But I do.” He dropped his gaze lower, to where she fiddled with her skirts.
Jane stopped the telling gesture that had long been a sign of her discomfort. She lifted her eyes to his. “In my deception, I’ve brought difficulties to you, your sister, and your entire family.” As much a burden now as she’d been since her birth. “And I am sorry,” she said, knowing as the words left her mouth how hopelessly inadequate they were. “So very—”
He pressed two fingers to her lips, ending that weak apology. “Stop,” he ordered on a whisper that was both gentle and hard all at once. Her heart thudded at the intimacy of his naked hand upon her mouth. “It is done.” And yet, he did not draw back. Worse, she did not want him to.
Gabriel worked his gaze over her face, lingered upon her lips. He dipped his head lower and she leaned up to receive his kiss when he froze, his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers. “I should go.”
“Yes.” He should. There was his meeting. But more, they’d established this was wrong. Yet, there was this irrevocable pull between them. An awareness she’d never known of anyone. And it terrified the blazes out of her.
Either he had far more strength than she, or his desire for her was far less consuming, for he let his hand fall to his side, and then without another word, turned on his heel and left.
At the echoing of silence, her shoulders sagged. This was just another post, and he was just another man, and soon she’d have her freedom. Freedom that would soon be arranged and secured by the Marquess of Waverly—a mere stranger in the real scheme of life. Why, she’d known him less than a week and a handful of hours, yet, it felt as though she’d known him far longer.
“Gabe—”
A startled cry rang from Jane’s throat at the unexpected intrusion. She wheeled around, a hand at her breast. “Chloe,” she said.
The young woman’s smile w
idened. “Jane. Good morning. I did not see you at breakfast this morning.”
With last night’s catastrophe, the prospect of food had left her belly churning with nausea. Unable to explain her absence, she said nothing.
Gabriel’s sister glanced about. “Have you seen my brother? I needed to speak with him.”
This was safer. Questions that required answers she could handle. “He has gone out on a matter of business.”
“He is always attending to business.” Chloe wrinkled her nose. “The stiff, starchy marquess, as usual.”
“He is not—” The other woman looked to Jane’s rapid defense with a question in her eyes. “He is not here,” she amended. It wouldn’t do to reveal more in terms of Jane’s relationship with this young lady’s brother.
Chloe wandered over to the window and pulled back the curtain. “The servants are readying the carriage and trunks.”
Jane fisted her hands at her sides. He’d wasted little time in ridding himself of her. His household. Ridding his household of her. Chloe looked back with a frown. She cleared her throat. “I am to go to reside with your brother, Lord Alexander, and his wife.”
The curtain slipped from Chloe’s fingers and she stared at her. “What?”
Her lips pulled in a grimace. How very pathetic to be shuffled about and for her shameful ruination the evening prior, no less. “I cannot remain in your residence,” she said with a matter-of-factness she did not feel. She’d never had a right to be here and it had been the height of foolishness to accept the young woman’s friendship.
“You cannot leave,” the young woman said with a firm shake of her head. “I forbid it.”
Warmth unfurled in her chest at this undeserved show of support and kindness. “I must leave,” she said with a gentle firmness that merely brought Chloe’s shoulders back.
Then her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Why, he is sending you away.” Before Jane could respond, a shocked gasp filled the office. “He will not do right by you.”
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