Chapter 5 Aubrielle Plight

Aubrielle leaned heavily against the wall after Dorian left. She squeezed her eyes shut. The sting of his words made her recoil from what she was doing. Fear filled her to know he was right. Lord Evercroft was no fool. The notorious nobleman would see right through her guise.

At thirty and two, Garland Sloane was no simpleton. Rafael said the man was thought to be brilliant by many of his peers, a true genius with investments and estate management. He lived his life as he would from the time he inherited his title. The man traveled extensively. She'd been fascinated to hear the recollections of his recent visits to the Orient and India. His musings had her enthralled.

The dissolute nobleman had little use for a wife. He was rumored to have several illegitimate children from former paramours. He fought many well-publicized duels over the years, all over women, though none could claim he'd issued any of the challenges. He had a short fuse; known to be mercurial in temperament. It was said he engaged in brawls with the slightest provocation.

The marquis was legendary among men of Dorian's age. They all applauded his daring, admiring Evercroft's iconic status within society. As wealthy as he was elusive, he met Rafael by chance at the gaming tables one night. The marquis invited Rafael to his home for a weekend visit after the pair talked for a time.

Aubrielle recalled how the nobleman dismissed her when they arrived at his manor on Louvain Square. She remembered how stunned she was by the wealth and beauty of his residence. He greeted them in the elaborate foyer soon after they arrived.

Aubrielle gaped at him when she first saw him, feeling like a ninny to have stared. He was as handsome as sin with his dark auburn hair and finely chiseled features. His gentleman's attire was perfectly suited to his powerful build, tailored and dark, adding to his sinister image. He bent over her hand, his lips barely touching her skin. His hot breath seemed to scorch the back of her hand.

She was repelled by him at once, snatching back her hand unconsciously. He seemed to know he unnerved her. His long-lashed green eyes mocked her immediate reaction to him. Then he appeared to not know she existed, entertaining her brother while she was left to her own devices.

The man seemed oblivious to the gossip surrounding him. He reveled in his own skin. He was admirably self-possessed, seething with an alluring appeal that drew her gaze time and again that night at dinner. She pinched herself under the table several times to quit gawking at him. She found his heady aura of raw animal magnetism revolting, yet fascinating, at the same time.

He was charming and charismatic at dinner as he and Rafael spoke of matters over her head. The marquis paid her no attention at all beyond being their gracious host. He was polite and civil to her, obviously looking upon her as a mere child. Rafael planned it well. The man hadn't seen it coming. And neither had she.

Rafael took her aside in the hallway after dinner when she meant to retire, grabbing her arm forcefully. Tears filled her eyes to recall his desperate words.

"You will do this for me, Aubrielle! There is no other way!" Rafael insisted, pushing her to her room. "We haven't any choice in it now. Quick! We haven't a moment to waste!"

"What do you mean to do?" she'd cried, pulling away, gazing at him in fear.

"The only thing we have left to us, little sister." Rafael looked desperate at that moment. "If we don't get an offer for you from Evercroft; I shan't survive the week. My lenders know I'm in London. Why do you think we came? They'll not find me here."

"Bu-t-t...how-w-w...do...you mean to go about it?" she'd stammered, shuddering to think of marrying a man like the marquis.

Rafael gazed at her with a look of pleading in his blue gaze. "You must be compromised by him, little sister. It's the only way. Evercroft would never offer for you otherwise. Without his wealth, we are done."

"No! No! You cannot mean to do this, Rafael!" She shook her head in denial, eyes widened with alarm. The startling means he would use became glaringly obvious to her. Revulsion swept over her to be used in such a way.

Her brother pushed her towards the stairs then, unrelenting. "Get to your room and await me. Get into your bed unclothed. Do it now! We haven't a moment to lose before his servants take note. You will do this for me, Aubrielle, or I will surely die. What becomes of you then? Think, will you? The men I owe money to would only come after you. You have no choice in this as I don't. "

Aubrielle did as he asked, feeling soiled already as she made ready for bed. She slid under the sheets naked and shaking in outrage to know how wrong it was what they were doing, believing she did it to save her brother's life.

Then, the other reasons came to mind. Those matters mocked her hesitation, reminding her she had little choice in going along with Rafael. It was for that alone she lay there, compromising more than just the marquis. In those moments, she gave up every bit of her conscience, telling herself she had no choice.

The two men retired to the marquis's study to engage in cards and drinks after dinner. Before long, Evercroft succumbed to the effects of the drug Rafael administered to his wine. With the help of two brawny servants, they brought along with them, Rafael placed a disrobed Evercroft in her bed.

Aubrielle remembered how she lay in mortified shame in her bed that night. She lay nude and trembling next to the inert marquis, her eyes filled with self-loathing, wishing there was some other way. Rafael cut his palm and smeared blood upon the sheets before he left. He'd winked down at her as though it was some grand prank they played.

"In the morning all of our problems will be over, little sister," he said with a gleam in his eye.

He left her alone with the drugged man who snored at her side. Sleep eluded her for some time. She was uncomfortable lying next to a strange man. She imagined his shock and anger on the morrow.