Chapter 6 The Confrontation

Morning came, and with it, the savage curses from Evercroft. He awoke at her side, startling her from sleep. He stared at her in stunned anger. Rafael arrived at her room on cue, glaring down at the man, demanding he do his duty to his sister. In those moments, Aubrielle kept silent. The desire to expose their duplicity nearly choked her.

The marquis jumped out of her bed and yanked on his clothes. She cowered in mortification under the sheets, recalling a glimpse of his well-turned backside before he jerked up his breeches. He accompanied her brother down to his study. Before he left, his furious glare pinned her under the sheet she clutched to her throat.

While she dressed to join them below, Evercroft agreed to Rafael's demands for money. Her brother threatened him with charges. Threats of legal action must have worn down the man's denials that he never touched her. It was handled much too quickly for her to believe the marquis resigned himself to his fate.

Rafael handled all the financial particulars. While the men argued within the study, she shivered on a bench outside the door, wishing for it to be over. But it wasn't over. She had to give her accounting of the night before.

Garland Sloane seemed bored during her tale of his lecherous behavior the night before, almost amused to hear her describe how he'd entered her room and forced himself on her. He laughed outright during the telling. She ignored him and repeated what her brother demanded she say, hating herself for such blatant lies.

After Rafael's indignant rant, the marquis eyed her with an intense scrutiny she found disconcerting. He appeared to be waiting for her to let him off the hook; and admit he hadn't forced himself on her. She maintained her lies and said nothing, avoiding his eyes, shrinking under the fury that emanated from him.

She shuddered to recall the way he looked at her. For the first time since meeting, he gazed at her with real interest. At that moment, she knew Rafael erred in choosing this man for his schemes. Aubrielle felt like she traded every bit of her soul, staring into those heartless green orbs, knowing she deserved whatever punishment he met out.

Aubrielle thought of Garland Sloane's piercing eyes as they followed her while their bags were being loaded onto the coach later that day to leave. His look promised she would pay for trapping him.

In one week, she would be married to the man she deceived. She covered her mouth to think of how her lies condemned him. It was likely no worse a crime than the man had been accused of before. But just this once, for the first time in his self-indulged life, the man was innocent.

********

A week later, Dane Manor was in an uproar, with servants running about in an effort to make everything ready. They'd been up since the wee hours preparing for a wedding. The modest interior of the manor was dusted and polished in readiness.

The wedding proved to be a somber affair, despite the festive decorations strewn about. It was attended only by Sir Rafael Dane and the preacher's wife, Juliette Wells. The small salon was arranged for the hasty nuptials. The furnishings were pushed aside within. A special license was sought by Evercroft the week before.

The Marquis of Evercroft arrived in his gleaming, crested coach early that morning, furious and tight-lipped. He stepped down in the small, circular courtyard looking about in contempt. The man was resplendent and impeccable in his stylish gentlemen's attire. His powerful form moved with the grace of a mountain cat as he stalked into the house.

He seemed to overpower the shabby interior with his commanding presence. The black looks he sent the servants had them scurrying to get out of his way. His disparaging glance around the modest house concluded the reasons he was set upon in an instant, noting the interior's disrepair.

Aubrielle fought her unease during the brief ceremony. The imposing form of the marquis stood next to her. He was hardly touching her but caused her to tremble throughout. His anger seemed to permeate from him. He stared down at her without expression during Reverend Wells' short sermon. His long, capable fingers slid the gold band upon her finger. He dropped her hand in distaste after the vows were said. He further abstained from the kiss at the end, walking away from her, making her breathe a sigh of relief.

Rafael beamed in pleasure when all was done. He rushed forward to embrace his sister in a ridiculous display of joy. The congratulations died on his lips. Lord Evercroft glared him into silence. His furious gaze wiped the smile from her brother's face.

Rafael wasted little time in hightailing it out of the salon to his rooms. The preacher and his wife took their leave after simple refreshments were served.

Aubrielle felt awkward once alone with the man. Her new husband stood at the window with his rigid back to her, staring out over the small, overgrown gardens beyond. Rafael wasted little time in abandoning her to face the man's wrath. Her brother was fairly rubbing his hands together to know he succeeded in his clever ploy to extort the man.

She wore her mother's wedding dress for the occasion, heartsick while dressing to think she intended to wear it to marry Dorian. It was an ivory satin confection that was hastily pressed for the sudden nuptials. The drooping nosegay of flowers Juliette Wells pressed into her hand before the ceremony seemed to match her dismal mood.

Aubrielle knew real fear at that moment. Bound to this man through trickery; she could only pray he treated her kindly. Her moist hands trembled. She discarded the small bouquet on the scarred bureau top. His unrelenting back stiffened, as though sensing her presence.

"Do you think me a fool?" Evercroft asked coldly with his back to her, making her jump from the sound of his velvety soft voice. "We both know I never touched you that night."