Chapter 7 Unveiling the Lies

We both know I never touched you that night."

The precise, well-modulated voice didn't shout. The effect was the same. Aubrielle was startled as he turned. A trembling hand went to her throat, feeling speared by his accusing gaze. Sickening dread fluttered in the pit of her stomach. Rafael assured her the man would have little memory of that night. Evercroft was supposed to believe he forced himself on her. It was obvious he saw through their duplicity.

"Perhaps you have no memory of it, my lord?" She panicked to see his lip curl in disgust. "You were quite drunk."

"You must think me an imbecile, girl. I was hardly drunk. I remember everything that happened that night, except the part where I relieved you of your delightful innocence." His green eyes looked her up and down insultingly. "Oh, and just so you know; one doesn't usually take the time to leave such evidence on the sheets if they had any to start with."

Aubrielle stiffened in fear, reminded of the reasons she did this. Her love for Dorian made her raise her chin a notch higher. She met his harsh regard without shaking under his wrath-filled stare. "One doesn't ask to be set upon by a drunk who fails to find his way to his room either, Lord Evercroft." She refused to be cowed by his harsh, disbelieving glance.

"You might wish to tell your brother to find another drug to use on his next victim. I distinctly recall passing out after one drink," the marquis fumed. "You might have gotten your way in this, little girl, but you will find being my wife not at all to your liking."

Aubrielle's eyes widened at the subtle warning. "What do you mean?"

The man laughed without humor. "For one, you might have gotten my name, my lady, but that is all you will get! You're to be packed off to one of my estates. How does that sound? It's far better than you deserve!"

Aubrielle was pleased. She wouldn't have to endure his company for long at all. It was obvious the man hated her. She stayed silent, seeing the rage in his eyes. His lips were compressed in fury, his emerald eyes like chips of ice.

"Can I assume by your refusal to speak up in my defense that you're also no virgin?" He smiled smugly at her flaming features. "Ah, so I'm the one to pay for you raising your skirts for another, am I? Why is the husband always the bloody last to know?"

Aubrielle stayed silent, refusing to engage his anger. He strode forward, his gaze sliding over her paling features with contempt. She nearly shrank away from the anger she sensed in him.

"Had I known you were so free with your favors that night; I might have paid more attention to you, my sweet." His eyes slid lower to her bosom, leering in obvious admiration. "A great deal more attention."

Aubrielle endured his mocking laughter then, knowing she deserved every bit of it for what she did. She looked down, unable to bear his scorn any longer. He reached out and grabbed her chin in a vice grip, forcing her to look up at him.

"Oh no, don't you look away from me now, my sweet little wife," her husband whispered harshly. "Your performance as the despoiled virgin is over. Well done. I commend you for maintaining such a martyred stance throughout this farce. I seemed to have forced myself on you in a drunken fit, did I? And you allowed me my way and endured me, did you? We both know you're no damned innocent! I'd put money on that if I wasn't so light in the pockets after dealing with your damned brother!"

"Stop it! Please, my lord." Aubrielle skittered away from him, putting the bureau between them, trembling from his anger.

"Stop what? Stop speaking the truth?" He regarded her with a black scowl. "We both know the real game here, girl! I am no fool! Your brother has bled me for a damned fortune! And you stand by and do nothing!"

"Please keep your voice down, my lord," Aubrielle implored, reddening at his insulting words. "The reverend may still be here."

Evercroft chuckled at that. "Worried you might shock him? It might surprise that good man to know how low you would go to get a husband to cover your shame."

"I refuse to discuss this with you while you're in a bad temper," Aubrielle snapped, angry now at his continued baiting of her. "You're unable to see the reason right now. When you calm down-"

"You have no bloody idea how I feel or care! Don't tell me to calm down," he shot back harshly, his handsome face flushed with rage. "You will regret forcing me to this, that I can promise you."

"I am so very sorry this has happened, my lord." She stared at his angry features, her fear growing with his rage. "You have no idea how much I regret it."

"I will give you ample reflection for your actions. We will see how I compare with the one who ruined you. It may prove entertaining." Aubrielle stared at him, the blood draining from her features. "I might as well have what I was blamed for taking before I leave you to rot at my estate, Lady Evercroft. Ready yourself to leave within the hour! If I stay here much longer, I will choke the life out of both you and your damned brother!"

With that, the man spun upon his heel and stalked from the salon. She heard the front door open and slam behind him. Aubrielle collapsed against the bureau, her heart hammering in her breast. He knew they deceived him!

Just his contemptuous words alone assured her he had no doubt of why he was forced to marry her, for that, and her brother's desperate need for funds.

The thought of Lord Evercroft coming to her bed made her shudder in revulsion, anticipating he would enjoy hurting her. Pain filled her to know she must allow it. Thinking of Dorian, she closed her eyes, clinging to his handsome young visage. The thought of another man's hands upon her so intimately made her tense and recoil with dismay and disgust. Thinking of Dorian's tender lovemaking, she began to weep for what she must do.