A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Lockhart opened his mouth ready to jump to Claudia’s defence, but his soon-to-be wife placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

“Your argument is weak.” Claudia raised her chin. “In assuming my husband is a man lured by the superficial, you do him a disservice.”

Selina snorted. “It was the superficial that enabled me to tempt him into bed.”

“You’re right,” Claudia said with confidence. “Lust is a powerful emotion. But I am talking about love.”

“In bed, there is no difference.”

Lockhart coughed into his fist. “I beg to disagree.” When he entered Claudia’s body, the pleasure gleaned from each vigorous thrust satisfied on a level deeper than that of casual bed sport. “Ma

king love to my wife satisfies on an emotional and physical level rather than just relieving an ache in my …”

Drake hummed in agreement.

Selina shook her head, unable to accept his explanation. “It would have been the same with us if only you’d stayed in the room, if only I’d not had my hand forced.”

Her hand forced?

“You didn’t love him,” Claudia protested, ignoring the vital clue. “If you did, you would have run into the inn to fetch help. You would have trusted in his innocence. You would have boarded the boat and never looked back.”

“You know nothing about the circumstances of that night,” Selina countered, growing more agitated by the second. “You don’t know what I’ve endured, what I’ve sacrificed.”

Lockhart shook his head. “What you’ve endured? I was bundled on to a ship and sent halfway across the world.” Anger flared. “My wife is right. You’ve never loved me. You think I’m guilty of committing vile atrocities.”

“No!” Selina cried. “That’s not true. I know you’re innocent. You did nothing that night. I was there.”

The comment confused him. “But you said you heard a scream and didn’t know what happened. On your return, you remained in the carriage because you didn’t know if I was alive or dead.”

A sudden gust of wind caught her off guard. Her cloak whipped about her legs, and she gripped the post with both hands.

“Get down, Selina,” Lockhart demanded. The woman thrived on drama. “Get down before you fall.”

She shook her head. “Listen to me! I can’t risk you walking away when I need you to know that I did love you. You didn’t hurt that man, my father did. My father arranged it all. He lied to me, made me believe he was acting in my interests.”

It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate.

Every drop of blood in Lockhart’s body turned cold. His heart skipped a beat. Bright lights danced in his eyes. It took every effort to focus on the image of Selina balancing on the capstones.

He wanted to speak but couldn’t.

“How was murdering that man supposed to serve you?” Claudia asked on his behalf.

“I was supposed to follow you outside,” Selina said, ignoring Claudia to address him. “When the thug threatened me, my father said you would realise how much you loved me, would save me and offer marriage.”

Every why hath a wherefore.

Lockhart tried to piece together the snippets he’d learnt from Terence. It had been about money. The rogue had come expecting payment and received a knife to the heart.

“But instead, your father killed the man because he couldn’t afford to pay his debt.” Bile bubbled in Lockhart’s throat. “Garthwaite blamed me for the crime, and his loyal coachman concealed the evidence.” Judging by the brusque nature of the coachman, perhaps he was the one who delivered the fatal blow.

“That is what I am trying to tell you,” Selina said. “I wanted to come with you, but my father knew of our secret liaisons. When you didn’t offer to marry me, he realised Terence was the better option. My father had mortgaged the house. I would have lost everything had he gone to debtors’ prison.”

Parts of the puzzle slotted into place. Terence was the easier target, the man with more integrity, the greater conscience. No doubt Terence offered to marry her on the journey back from Portsmouth. And she’d spent years funding her father’s gambling habit, not her own.

“You used my brother to pay your father’s debts,” he said. Guilt surfaced. In his mind, he had made his brother his enemy when in truth they had both been betrayed.

“If only you had married me.” Selina reached out her hand to him as if expecting he might grasp it, might save her. “We could have paid the debts, freed my father from his obligations and then lived happily.”