A Not So Respectable Gentleman?. Diane Gaston

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A Not So Respectable Gentleman? - Diane  Gaston

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wounded him, she could tell by his face, but they were true.

      He spoke quietly. ‘I am not running away now. I want to help you.’

      She desperately wanted help, but not from him. The pain of his leaving her still hurt too much.

      Her own father had manoeuvred the situation, true—she must deal with that later—but it was Leo who’d chosen to leave.

      She stood and tied her mask back on. ‘I want to go back.’

      He rose and donned his mask, as well.

      They entered the crosswalk that led back to the other side of the gardens. She took long deep breaths, trying to calm herself lest tears dampen her mask and give away her emotions. The closer they came to the supper boxes, the more she cringed at having to return to Kellford’s side and to pretend to her father that he had not set about the destruction of her happiness two years before this. At the moment, though, it was worse to be with Leo. She was enraged at him—and perilously close to falling into his arms.

      He’d held her many times when they’d discussed marrying, when they declared their love, said they would overcome all obstacles together.

      She remembered when she’d learned his stables had burned down and most of his horses were lost. She’d read it in the newspapers. When her father told her Leo never showed up for his appointment, she’d imagined it had been because of the fire. She waited and waited until days stretched into weeks and weeks into months. She waited even after learning Leo had left the country. He would send for her, she’d thought.

      But he never did.

      He’d promised he would marry her, and now he promised he would find a way to prevent her marriage. It was too late to believe in him. It hurt too much to be wrong.

      She walked at his side, not touching him, her cape wrapped around her like a shield against him.

      One good thing about his sudden appearance in her life was she now felt roused to battle harder against this forced marriage. She did not need him for it. All she needed was to remain single for two more years and her inheritance would be hers, free and clear. No man could use it to rule her life. No man could keep her from protecting her mother and sisters.

      Her father told her he owed Kellford a large gambling debt, one so large that their family would be ruined if he did not pay. Apparently Mariel was payment of the debt. Or rather, her fortune was. How much of that was a lie, like the lies he told her about Leo? She wanted the truth.

      Then she would know what to do.

      It was a start. A plan. And her time was better spent dwelling on how to escape this dreadful marriage than on fantasies and regrets about Leo Fitzmanning.

      They reached the arches; the supper boxes were just on the other side.

      ‘Do not remain with me,’ she demanded of Leo.

      He seized her arm before she could leave him. ‘I cannot let you go until you tell me what hold Kellford has over you.’

      This was becoming tedious. Why not tell him? Perhaps he would leave her alone if she did.

      She turned so she could look directly into his eyes. ‘Kellford threatens my family. He has the power to ruin my father, my mother, my sisters.’ She spoke the words slowly so he would not miss their importance.

      ‘Mariel—’ he began.

      ‘No more promises!’ She pulled out of his grip. ‘Do not stop me again, Leo. This time I am the one who is leaving. Right now.’

       Chapter Five

      Once again Leo watched Mariel walk away, her dark green cape billowing behind her as she hurried back to the supper boxes. Once again she’d shaken him.

      By God, he’d been thoroughly duped by her father. What an elaborate ruse the man had created, complete with a special licence, a story about Mariel’s absence and Mariel’s cryptic note. Enough to convince the bastard suitor he’d been thrown over for a man with a title. Leo had fallen for it, without a single question.

      The realisation was like a dagger in the gut.

      He deserved Mariel’s anger. He’d not believed in her. He’d run away without a fight, so ready to believe her father’s lies.

      The dagger twisted. He might have gained happiness. She would have been spared pain. If only he had not been so easily misled, so abominably weak.

      He straightened his spine. Never would he show such weakness again.

      The truth sliced into him. He was responsible for her suffering. If he had done the right thing two years ago, she would not be betrothed to Kellford now. By God, he vowed he’d fix that. Even though such amends would not bring back what he’d lost. What he’d foolishly tossed away.

      He slowly walked towards the supper box.

      What was it that Kellford held over Mariel’s family? The key was her father, Leo guessed. The bloody liar. What had Covendale done this time for which his daughter must pay?

      Leo would find out. He’d begin a search for the answer this very night. Judicious questions posed in certain gaming hells should yield answers. Few secrets were safe in gaming hells, where men made it their business to discover what others were hiding. Leo’s secret, his once-betrothal to Mariel, had, thankfully, never seen the light.

      Leo re-entered the supper box, where the masked and costumed guests continued to laugh and flirt and imbibe too much wine. He distinctly heard his sister Charlotte’s laugh above the others. Dear Charlotte. She’d certainly inherited their parents’ capacity for enjoyment.

      Keeping his distance lest his sister recognise him, Leo watched Mariel sidle through the crowd and pick up a glass of wine from a liveried servant carrying a tray. She made her way to the table of food and positioned herself in a nearby corner. Leo found a spot where he could keep her in view without being too obvious. She’d noticed him, though, tossing him one annoyed glance before pointedly ignoring him.

      Not more than two minutes passed before Kellford bustled his way to the food table and placed paper-thin slices of ham on his plate.

      Mariel marched up to him. ‘There you are!’ she snapped. ‘If you insist upon being my escort, you might at least have remained by my side.’

      Kellford nearly dropped his plate. ‘Miss Covendale.’ He made a curt bow. ‘I have been searching the Gardens for you.’

      She laughed. ‘Searching the Gardens? Do you think me such a fool that I would leave the party? No woman would leave the protection of her friends to venture into the Gardens alone.’

      ‘Are you saying you were not alone?’ Kellford put on an affable smile, but his voice rose. ‘Come now, you were not with another man, were you?’ This was jokingly said, but one look at Kellford’s eyes showed he was not amused.

      Mariel waved a hand dismissively. ‘Do stop talking nonsense. You know very well I remained here all the time. It was you who left the boxes. I saw you. If you do not wish my company, please have the courtesy to say so. Do not merely sneak away.’

      Clever

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