“Dear God.”
“Prayers will not help you now, my dear.”
“Please,” she said softly. “I do not understand.”
Gabriel fiercely told himself he would not be swayed by a pair of wounded emerald eyes.
Damnation. The woman was as great a fraud as her bastard of a father.
Was she not?
“Determined to act the innocent?” he rasped. “Very well. After an hour spent enduring your father’s crass insults and his boorish bullying it has become obvious I have been neatly cornered. I might have admired his cunning if I weren’t the poor sod being coerced into marrying a female who could only hope to force a man down the aisle.”
Long moments passed, the silence broken by the tick of the ormolu clock on the mantel and the distant twitter of lingering guests.
“This makes no sense,” Talia said at last. “I am to wed Harry.”
“In his typical fashion, my brother considered nothing beyond his selfish need to indulge his every desire. And, when it came time to pay the piper, he disappeared, leaving me to take responsibility yet again.”
“But…” She licked her dry lips. “Surely you must have some notion of where he has gone?”
“I have several notions, but it no longer matters where he is hiding, does it?” He didn’t bother to disguise his bitterness.
She wrung her hands, her face tight with unexpected desperation.
“I suppose there is no means to disguise the fact he did not arrive at the church this morning, but if he could be found and compelled to return to London…”
“You would wed him after he abandoned you at the altar?” he snapped, oddly annoyed by her insistence to have Harry as her bridegroom.
Did the female have feelings for his wastrel of a brother?
Or was this just another clever ruse?
Neither explanation gave him pleasure.
“It is what my father desires,” she muttered.
“Perhaps he did before he had the means to capture an earl. Now I can assure you he has no intention of settling on a mere younger son.”
She appeared to struggle to follow his harsh words, a pulse fluttering at the base of her throat like a tiny bird caught in a cage.
Heat pierced through him at the thought of pressing his lips to that tender spot. Would she taste as sweet as she promised? Or was that yet another deception?
Thankfully unaware of his treacherous longings, Talia regarded him with a furrowed brow.
“I am aware that my father has acquired influence among some members of society, but how could he possibly force you to marry me?”
“Sordid blackmail.”
“Blackmail?”
“He has threatened to sue my brother for breach of promise, ensuring that my family name would be kept on the front pages of every scandal rag in England for months, if not years.”
She flinched at his harsh explanation, her ashen face suddenly flooded scarlet.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” he said, sneering. “Your father is well aware I will pay any price, no matter how obscene, to protect my mother from becoming a public spectacle.”