Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel) (28 page)

“Well, I would if I had a fiancée,
but as the lady in question said no to my proposal…”

Alex bolted upright in his seat and the
room swayed. “Bloody hell.” He took a deep breath. “What did you say?”

“Gillian refused my offer of
marriage.”

“She refused you?”

Alex tried to concentrate on
appearing concerned for Sutherland, but he could not get past the fact that
Gillian had refused the man. “Why’d she refuse you?”

“It’s customary to tell one sorry
when they pour out their troubles to you.”

Alex scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I am sorry. Truly.”

“She said something about attraction
or lack thereof. And attraction leading to love. Oh, and men with blue eyes who
refuse to wear their cravats properly.” Sutherland’s gaze fell to Alex’s untied
cravat. “And sisters who won’t listen. And her being helpless, but sure she
could no longer marry me. Honestly, I couldn’t follow half the things she
babbled about.”

Alex grinned. He followed her
perfectly. She cared for him. No denying the proof of her babbling. What to do
about it? She deserved better than him. But he was a selfish bastard, and he no
longer cared. He met Sutherland’s eyes. “I can’t let her go twice.”

“I suspected something
was between the two of you.” Sutherland shrugged. “I chose to ignore it because
she would have been the perfect wife for me, and I never dreamed you would
marry anyone. Then Sally sat me down an hour ago, told me a story about you and
your brother and lectured me on finding a woman who really loved me for me.”

“What the hell does
Sally know about Robert and me?”

Alex sat in
stunned silence as Sutherland told him all the details that Peter had told
Sally. “I don’t remember telling Peter any of that.”

Sutherland nodded.
“You loved your brother. And then you betrayed him. And he betrayed you. Time
and again. He was an ass. And so were you. It’s time to forgive yourself.”

“I can’t,” Alex
said, pushing his chair away from the table. “But because I am an ass, I can’t
just let her go, though she deserves better than me.”

Alex stood and swayed with the sudden
motion. His effort to get foxed had been a supremely good one. He put his hand
on the back of his chair to steady himself. “Was she still at Peter and Sally’s
when you left?”

“Yes. From the sound of it, she was
arguing with her aunt about something. Primwitty said he thought you might be
here, so I left to come find you.”

“I should go find her.”

“Not tonight, my friend.”

“Why not?” Alex blinked his eyes to
clear his vision.

“You’re foxed. Go see her when you
can talk coherently.”

Waiting was out of the question. Alex
wanted and needed to see her now and talk to her or even just look at her. He
had no idea what he was going to say or what he could offer her, but he had to
say something.

He took a step forward and the room
tilted. He slapped his palm on the table. “I am not drunk,” he protested, more
for his own benefit. He had never been foxed over a woman in his life.

Chuckling, Sutherland asked, “How do
you know you’re not drunk?”

“If I can walk, I’m not foxed,” Alex
replied smugly, taking a step forward and pitching face-first onto the cold,
hard floor. Hands came under his arms, and he would have lifted his head to
protest, but the blasted thing weighed a ton. Instead, he decided to sleep
since someone turned out the lights.

Alex woke with a pounding headache, a
dry mouth and sweating from the bedcovers piled on him. After a brief
inspection of his surroundings, he ascertained he was in his own town house. Thank
God for that, or he supposed, he should thank Sutherland. With a quick change
and a barked command to his butler, Alex was on his way to Peter and Sally’s,
praying all the way that Gillian had been detained by the rain that still plagued
them this morning. He arrived at Sally and Peter’s, and discarding all social
graces, he did not bother to knock and charged into the house nearly running
over the poor butler.

“Lord Lionhurst, I do believe you are
expected,” the butler stated politely, ignoring the fact that he had almost
been shoved to the ground. “If I may escort you to the study?”

Alex nodded and followed the man,
trying not to push him out of the way in his eagerness to get to Gillian faster.
When the aged butler finally crept to the study door and opened it, Alex
couldn’t contain himself any longer. He brushed past him and stopped short,
disappointment nearly choking him. Sally, Lady Whitney, Lady Davenport and
Peter were in the room, but not Gillian.

“Where is she?” Alex asked, directing
his question at Peter since he was closest to him.

“I assume you mean Lady Gillian?”

“You know who I mean,” Alex snapped.

“She’s gone.”

Ready to shake his best friend, Alex
advanced toward Peter. “What do you mean, she’s gone?”

“It’s as Peter has just told you,”
Gillian’s aunt said. “She wanted to leave, so she left.”

Alex dropped into a chintz chair, put
his head between his hands and took three long breaths. When he thought he
could talk without yelling, he sat up. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

The women nodded in unison.

“Are you telling me she had a coach
take her home in this driving rain?”

“Not precisely,” Lady Whitney said.

Alex turned his glare on Peter. “I
tried to stop her, Lion. She insisted she could drive the carriage herself, and
when I flatly refused to allow her, she sneaked out of the house and took my favorite
coach with the red and black top. How was I to know a lady would do such a
thing?”

“Darling, really?” Sally chuckled. “After
all these years married to me, you truly don’t know an independent woman when
you see her?”

“I thought your outlandish behavior
was yours alone,” Peter replied. “I’d no idea other women were afflicted so.”

“You must not know many women with
their own minds,” Lady Davenport said with a shake of her head.

“Truly he doesn’t,” Sally confirmed. “Though
I do maintain like-minded friends for myself as Gillian.”

“Enough,” Alex grumbled, coming to
his feet. “How can you all sit here so calmly when she’s alone out there in this
abominable rain?”

Gillian’s aunt stood up and crossed
to him. “Because we only just realized she left. And working ourselves into a
tizzy won’t help her. We were just deciding if Whitney and I should go or if
His Grace should take another carriage. She’s going home, so we will find her. But
she’s quite capable with horses.”

“Why would she go
now in this rain?” Alex glared at all three women. “You women make no sense.” He
just wanted to see her and tell her…what?
I’m so glad you still only have one
fiancé?
He groaned and raked his hand through his hair. When he found her, he had
to know exactly what to say.

Standing in the
pouring rain, Gillian kicked at the wheel of her carriage until her right foot
throbbed from her effort.
Blasted rain
. When would it end? She ran a hand
over her eyes to wipe away the water and stared at the offending wheel sunk
deep into the brown muck. With one last burst of anger, she braced her hands on
the wheel and dug her feet into the mud behind her, but as she slid forward
toward the brown, soggy ground, all her determination slipped away as her hands
sank into the mess.

She couldn’t do it anymore. Whatever
fight she possessed was gone. She had failed her sister, and her sister did not
even know it yet. The only choice now was to protect Whitney as best she could
from whatever may come.

Fearing she was about to end up face-first
in the sludge, she tried to bring her knees forward and push herself up to
stand. Instead, she tilted over and landed on her back, stuck in the mire. Her
predicament echoed the past that haunted her, a mire of lies and mud brought
about by rain. The river had killed Mother on a rainy night.

Weighed down by years of secrets,
guilt and duty, Gillian relinquished the fight and dropped all the way back
into the muck. The belief that she could one day figure this problem out drove
her forward every day of her life, but now that belief was gone. Drake had been
her only solution. She was left with nothing except her desire for Alex.

What kind of fool was she to want a
man who had only offered to ruin her in order to hurt his enemy? Alex did not
love her. If he had, then he would have stopped Drake from taking her from the
dining room last night. Alex had known Drake meant to propose marriage. Drake
had told her so. Blast her stupidity for falling in love with Alex.

He was not going to come charging up
the road and rescue her from all her problems. What did that leave? She stared
up at the gray sky and let the rain pelt her face, cold drops of confusion and
defeat covering her skin with a wet layer. What to do now? Pull herself out of
the mud? No. She was too tired to move just yet.

She would have to marry Lord
Westonburt. She could not leave Whitney, and staying meant marriage to that
man. Her stomach turned in protest. She lay in the muck until she was soaked to
the bone, a deep chill settling into her soul along with the brutal truth.

Gillian dug her fists into the mire. Perhaps
if she held tightly enough to the earth, she could maintain her senses as well.
She closed her eyes and breathed in the wet dirt and rain. There was no good
solution; there was no happy ending.

Her throat constricted, and every
defense she gathered around her to make herself strong through the years
slipped away. She felt like she was eight years old again, the longing to be
loved as fresh as the moment she realized Mother was leaving them. But no
longer did Gillian crave her mother’s touch. She craved Alex’s, and the longing
made her angry. “I hate you, Lord Lionhurst,” she hissed, slamming her palms
into the dirt and pushing herself up.

“Don’t say that,
peach. I would hate to think I came all this way in the driving rain to find a
woman who hates me.”

Gillian’s eyes flew open. She wasn’t
woolgathering. There was Alex, kneeling in the mud and gazing at her.

He shook his head, then swooped his
arms under her legs and brought her against his chest while rising.

She didn’t stop to think. She crushed
her mouth to his. His arms tightened around her as he returned her kiss, gently
massaging her lips with his own and breathing life back into her with the
warmth of his breath. His lips sucked and nipped at her neck until his warm
breath hit her ear, unraveling her at the center of her core with a pulsating
need to be one with him.

Her fingers curled into his shoulder.
He drew back to look at her, cupping the side of her face with his hand, then
sliding his fingers under her chin. “Did you think I wouldn’t come to find you
once I heard you had turned Sutherland’s proposal down?”

She laughed shakily. “I suppose I
should have known you’d come looking to seduce me. Go ahead.” She crushed her
mouth to his once again. Embracing recklessness. Embracing her desire. Wanting
to know his love for one moment. “I no longer care. If I’m to be forced to
marry Westonburt, then just once I want to know what it feels like to be with
the man I love.”

* * * *
*

“You love me?” His heart thudded as
he pulled back and looked at Gillian.

“Yes,” she replied, her teeth
chattering.

He pressed her to him and wrapped his
arms tight around her. “You’re willing to let me seduce you because you love
me?”

She nodded. “I cannot help you gain
your revenge before my marriage. But I promise you he’ll know you had me once
I’m wed. I have to protect my sister above all, but I will get you your
revenge.”

“Damn it, Gillian.” He clomped
through the mud toward the hunting cabin he saw in the distance.

“What are you doing?”

 “I’m getting us out of the rain. I
prefer to talk to you without
my
teeth chattering.”

“Put me down.” She pushed on his
shoulder as he continued to walk. With every step toward the cabin, her
resistance grew. “Please, put me down. I can’t go in there. Not there.”

“Why?” He stopped and met her rounded
eyes.

“My mother,” Gillian moaned. “She died
there. Not five feet from that place.”

“I guess we both need to banish our
pasts.” Alex strode up the steps and set her down in front of the door. Gillian
did not move.

Alex rattled the door handle, then
stepped back and kicked the door open. It flew back and hit the inner wall with
a whack. She scrambled backward, but his arm looped around her back and his
fingers splayed to become a barrier. He pushed her sopping hair off her
shoulder, and she met his gaze. “Trust me.”

Hell, he could not believe he was
asking her to trust him
. Until she had declared she loved him, he had not known what he was
going to say. But now, he had no doubt.

She nodded and followed him inside.
Once he closed the door, he turned to face her. “Promise you won’t interrupt me.”

She nodded.

He took a deep breath. “I’m not
worthy of you.”

“Alex―”

“You promised.” He wanted to tell her
everything at once.

She clamped her mouth shut.

“I’m not worthy of you. But I want
you. I love you. And I’m selfish enough not to care that you deserve better
than me.”

“Alex, I―”

“Gillian, please…”

“Sorry.” She pressed her lips
together.

“You need to know some things about
me.” He started to pace the room. “I slept with my older brother Robert’s
fiancée, and that’s what led Robert to kill himself. His death is on my hands.
I’ve tried to atone, I vowed to never take a wife since I deprived Robert of
the chance of ever having one, but I want you.”

“You mean you want to
seduce
me.”

“No, Gillian.” He crossed the room
and cupped her face in his hands. “I want to marry you. If you’ll have me after
what I’ve told you, I want you to be my wife. I swear to God I’ll spend the
rest of my life trying to be better than I’ve been.”

* * * *
*

She wanted to cry at his declaration
and pain. Instead, she ran her hands up the curves of his forearms and over the
broad expanse of his muscled chest. “I already knew about your brother. Sally
told me everything.”

“Well, hasn’t the duchess been rather
chatty lately.”

Gillian arched her brow. She didn’t
know what he meant by that, nor did she particularly care about Sally at this
moment. Gillian slid her hands up his arms until they rounded his shoulders.
She grasped the material of his soaking wet coat and tugged until it slid down
his arms and dropped with a smack against the floor.

Her heart thudded in her chest. “What
you did was wrong. But what Robert did to you all your life was wrong as well.
You made a mistake, but you did not kill your brother.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I slept with
his betrothed.”

“And he stole many of the women you
were involved with. He stole Lady Staunton from you with his title.”

“She used me.”

Gillian gritted her teeth. The man
was stubborn. She deftly unlaced his shirt and tapped his arms. He raised them
above his head, and she swallowed back a wave of lust at the muscled flesh
displayed before her. “Either way, your brother knew you were sleeping with
her, did he not? He knew you cared for her, did he not?” She reached for the
waist of his trousers, but his hands came to hers and held them.

“No one has ever tried to convince me
quite like this.”

She smiled, her heart pounding. “I
want you to accept the truth. Robert was jealous of you. You had everything he
wanted. When his title secured him Lady Staunton’s hand in marriage, but not
her love, he wanted to punish you.”

Alex frowned at her for several
seconds. “I never thought of it that way.”

“You wouldn’t. Let me ask you
something. Would you not have died for Robert?”

Alex stared at her, his dark eyes
lightening. “Gladly. He was my brother.”

“There’s your answer. Let go of your
guilt. You loved Robert. Despite everything between the two of you, you loved
him.”

He pulled her close and ran his hands
up into her hair. Tilting her head back, he placed a light kiss on her lips. “Thank
you.”

“You’re welcome.” She kissed him
back, relishing the tingle of desire simply kissing him could cause.

He took her hand and led her to the
bed. “There’s something I want to know before we go any further.

She smiled. She was sure he wanted to
know if she would marry him. Of course, she would. She loved him. She could not
save her sister from what may come, but maybe Alex could help control the
damage if the truth came to light. And he was saving her from Westonburt. She
would marry Alex no matter how her father protested.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“What do you want to ask me?”

“What are you running from?”