Page 13 of The Duchess Debt

Verity shook her head. “You know how children are.”

Thatwas a dodge if ever she’d heard one. “Yes, and they resemble their parents. Both of them.”

“It isn’t my place to—”

“Verity, why not?” Helena pressed.

Gabe appeared in the doorway, his face stony hard as he answered coldly, “Because she’s not mine.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Gabe sat in front of the fire in his dark study and stared into the glass of cognac in his hand. His preoccupied mind didn’t register the longcase clock in the hall striking midnight or the otherwise silent house around him. He was lost in his thoughts from five years ago and every agonizing day since, haunted by ghosts, and doing his damnedest to drink away the pain. He was well on his way if the nearly empty decanter on the side table was any indication, but his agony hadn’t been diminished.

“There’s not enough cognac in France for that,” he mumbled and slowly swirled the last swallow of golden liquid in his glass.

Earlier, he’d gone up to Helena’s room to tell her that dinner would be served on trays in their separate rooms so she could rest and settle in for an early night. And so that he could give himself a few more precious hours to come to terms with having her under his roof and in the bedroom next to his.

Instead, he’d interrupted their discussion about Alice.

Christ.He raked his fingers through his hair. He had known he was going to have to tell Helena the truth about the girl eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Or to be so blunt about it. Dear God, the look of utter bewilderment on her face… Well, he’d never seriously thought she would go through with the wedding to begin with. Now, he fully expected her to be waiting in the entry hall at dawn with freshly packed trunks to leave both Grangely Park and him. This time for good.

He deserved no less. He’d certainly never deserved a woman like Helena, although she’d once been madly in love with him despite that, while he had been simply captivated by her. He wanted to be her husband and spend the rest of his life loving her, spoiling her, and giving her the world at her feet. He was her first love, her first passionate kiss…her first everything. No—nearlyeverything. There was a line he had been too honorable to cross, although he had desperately wanted to. But he had also stupidly thought he would get to spend the rest of his life making love to her.

Then fate intervened and destroyed it all.

With a curse, he shoved himself out of the chair and began to pace in front of the fireplace.

In those dark hours following what should have been their wedding and the happiest day of their lives, Gabe had been certain her father would call him out for dishonoring his daughter and challenge him on the park green. If he had, Gabe might very well have been tempted to let the man fire a ball straight into his chest and put him out of his misery. But no challenge was issued. Only later did Gabe discover why—gossip had already spread that Gabe called off the wedding because he had finally come to his senses about Helena not being good enough for him, that she wasn’t even innocent. Calling Gabe out would only seem to prove the rumors and damn her further.

Which was why Gabe had been surprised to receive her father’s recent letter—no, downright stunned. He had been certain it was a mistake. Of all the men in England to choose for Helena, Sir Henry couldn’t have possibly been mad enough to pick him.

Yet the man’s offer was serious. So was Gabe’s response, even though he never truly believed she would accept the arrangement. If he knew one thing for certain about Helena, it was that no one and nothing made her do anything she didn’t want to. Except her family. She would walk through the fires of hell itself to protect them, and in her mind, marriage to him was most certainly just that.Hell.

His fingers tightened around his glass. The Sinfells’ situation must have been even worse than Sir Henry had let onin his letter for Helena to actually come here. For her tostillbe here.

If the irony wasn’t so damning, he would have laughed at the realization that he was once again taking a wife who didn’t love him. He had never loved Clarissa, and she certainly had never loved him. But shouldn’t wedding vows meansomething? Shouldn’t his sacrifices to save Clarissa’s reputation at least have made her want to treat him with sympathy and kindness, rather than hating him for it? But that was exactly what she had done. She’d hated him and made certain he knew it, in every selfish and humiliating act she took against him.

Damnation!He hurled the glass into the fireplace. It shattered it against the firebox in a shower of crystal and flames.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s a sin to waste good cognac?” a quiet voice said from behind him.

He whirled around.

Helena stood in the doorway of his study in a white dressing gown and embroidered slippers, her long dark hair hanging loose around her slender shoulders. The warm, soft, and completely unexpected sight of her took his breath away.

“It’s not a sin,” he somehow managed to counter, then felt like an idiot for saying so.

As if realizing how much she’d surprised him, a faint smile teased at her lips. “Well, it should be.”

She closed the door behind herself, then crossed to the side table and the collection of crystal decanters of all shapes and sizes sitting on the silver tray.

“Do you mind if I help myself, then, before you destroy all the good liquor?” she called out, although he was certain she didn’t expect an answer. “I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d come down for a drink.”

He drawled dryly, “And ended up in my study where you expected to find me all along?”

“Where I expected to find your best liquor,” she corrected. She checked the silver labels hanging around each decanter by their small chains, selected the plum-colored port, and poured a splash into a crystal tumbler. She didn’t glance over her shoulder at him as she muttered, “Youwere an unexpected surprise.”

She punctuated that obvious lie by replacing the stopper with a soft clink.