Chapter 8 Bound by Lies, Driven by Scorn

Under the allotted hour, her trunks were hefted down to Evercroft's coach. He stood outside pacing in wait, unwilling to step one foot back into the house. He sent annoyed glances at the servants who carried out her belongings, snapping at them to make all haste.

Rafael approached the foot of the stairs in the foyer. He grinned as he saw her come down in a pale green traveling costume. She longed to smack the smug smile from his face. His enjoyment of it was beyond good taste. His handsome face was wreathed in gloating.

Rafael was tall and lanky, and as blond as she. Her brother embraced her warmly and stood back, looking down at her with pride shining in his gaze. His dandified, well-dressed presence at the foot of the stairs could only mean he was on his way out.

Seeing her brother so pleased infuriated her, knowing his destination was his favorite gambling establishment. He wasted no time in rushing out to spend Evercroft's money.

"Did I not tell you all would work as we wished?" Rafael was puffed up in his arrogance. "You are now Lady Evercroft! A bloody marchioness! Think of how proud our father and mother would be. You could appear happy. What's the sulk for, puss?"

Aubrielle gave an outraged gasp, staring at him in dismay. "Happy? Is that what I should be? Our parents would roll over in their graves to know what we've stooped to! You have set me up to take the brunt of his lordship's displeasure. He knows what we've done to him, Rafael. He confronted me in the salon. He knows he didn't touch me that night."

Rafael glared down at her, his lips flattening at her chiding tone. "They would have killed me, Aubrielle. What was I to do? You would have married that pauper Gale. I did you a favor! You're a damned marchioness now because of my quick thinking! You can't even show me the slightest bit of gratitude, can you? Just be nice to the man. We both know you can do that, do we not?" He raised a golden eyebrow meaningfully. "Had you not been so eager to disgrace yourself with our penniless neighbor, I might have received an honest offer for you. The blame here is not just mine, little sister."

"You sell me to pay off your debts and you call it a favor?" She was aware Lord Evercroft was beyond the door in the courtyard. She measured her words. "You think you've done me a good turn by entrapping Evercroft as you have? You did all for yourself and no other!"

Rafael's face reddened with anger. "You will do your duty to Evercroft, little sister. You will forget about your former lover. I will not be set upon by the man if you should displease him."

"He means to send me away, Rafael!" Aubrielle exclaimed in near hysteria. "I'm to be banished to one of his estates. Speak no more of my duty! It would appear my sense of duty is what got me into this travesty, to begin with!"

"No, you bedding Gale did that. I merely supplied you with the means to recover from it."

Aubrielle stared up at him as if seeing him for the first time. Rafael cared nothing of the fact that he'd set Lord Evercroft up, or the fact she loved another. It was merely a means to an end for him. Dorian was right. He did it for himself. "I hope you never find yourself at the mercy of those men again, dear brother." Her eyes flashed in obvious warning. "Don't darken my door with your hand out then. Your fingers will be shut in it."

Aubrielle didn't wait for his response. The butler held the door aloft. She stepped out into the bright mid-morning sunshine, her gaze going to her husband standing in the courtyard. The marquis was bristling at the delay. She wavered from his condemning look. She was aware of those glowing emerald eyes as she made her way to the coach.

Evercroft joined her and assisted her inside. When he sat before her, he raised an eyebrow at her pale, drawn features. "I can only assume your rash actions have made you ill, my dear. You look positively green," he remarked in a false, solicitous tone. "A pity, for we have a five-hour journey to my home. We don't stop to see to your comforts, my lady. If you mean to hack up those nauseating refreshments, please do so out the window."

Aubrielle glared at the man, tempted to do just that in his gleaming boots. "I am fine, my lord. You need not see to my comforts," she assured him as the coach pulled away. She stole one last look at her childhood home in wistful regret, wishing to jump out of the coach and run back.

"Aren't you the very picture of a prim new bride?" the marquis noted sarcastically as he eyed her across from him. "And the bride wore white, too? Saints preserve us all! What bloody hypocrisy that was?"

Aubrielle longed to ignore him. His persistent needling of her proved her undoing. She gazed at him with a purposeful look, trying another approach to gain his understanding if she could. "Does belittling and name-calling make you feel better about our situation, my lord? I don't think it benefits either of us."

"For now, it pleases me," he allowed, with a fleeting smile. His lingering green gaze burned away any illusion he was remotely a gentleman. His eyes began to strip every layer of the traveling costume from her back, making her tremble on the seat across from him. "We will see if I find better methods to chastise you tonight that are far more pleasurable for us both."

"You have the right to be upset, my lord-"

"Enough!" he snapped, cutting off what she would have said. "Thank you for allowing me my own feelings, my dear." He regarded her with a disgusted look. "I also have all the rights as your husband now. Try to remember that should you anger me."

Aubrielle shook with fear, blue eyes growing wide at his words. "Would abusing me solve anything, my lord?"

"No, but it depends upon the manner of abuse you have in mind." His green eyes filled with amusement. "Even pain can be enjoyable. I'd show you if I had any plans to stay in your delightful company. Alas, I'd just as soon as forget I ever set eyes upon you."

"I had no choice in this! Does that matter to you at all?" She was visibly shaken by his scandalous words.

"There is always a choice in everything we do, my lady. Had you more sense under that fluffy blonde mop there; you'd see that."

Aubrielle gasped, a blush staining her cheeks. "I'm hardly ignorant, my lord!"

"How old are you, girl?" Garland asked in disgust. "You look like a woman grown under all those stupid ruffles, but looks can deceive."

"I am nearly eighteen." She saw him cringe, rolling his eyes heavenward.

"That damned young? I wouldn't have guessed it by your actions. You're nearly a blasted child," he taunted unmercifully. "Have you had any formal training? Do you have any idea what's expected of you as the Marchioness of Evercroft?" She bit her lip in dismay. He cursed fluently and shook his head in disgust. "I can see you don't have the first damned clue of what your duties are. It's lucky for us I never intend to present you to society. You'd likely embarrass us both with your ill-bred manners. For a fortune hunter, you have much to learn, my dear. If you seek so high, be sure you can carry it off!"

"I learned deportment from Lady Gale as a child," Aubrielle snapped in heated response. "I can assure you that I'm quite housebroken, my lord."

Garland chuckled at her spirited reply, a cruel light in his gaze. "Lady Gale can be commended for her efforts to turn a sow's ear into a silk purse. A pity she didn't succeed at it. You are obviously no real lady at all, my dear. Real ladies don't do what you did to me, now do they? I would say the countess failed miserably with you."

"You are quite cruel," Aubrielle choked out, longing to slap him for his insults. She was suddenly self-conscious under his sardonic gaze.

"I merely point out the obvious." He smirked at her, folding his arms across his chest. "Would a real lady allow herself to be ruined without the benefit of marriage? And then pin it upon an innocent man as you have done to me? I would guess the answer to that question is a resounding- no! There we are, my dear. You are not a lady at all."