A Love Forsaken, Marriage Upon Lies

England 1718

The night was bathed in inky darkness; fine mists shrouding the shadowed grounds. An owl hooted eerily in the distance, marking the quiet passage. The cloud-obscured moon overhead shared the progress of the figure that shimmied up the tall, gnarled oak.

He dangled precariously from the highest limb, fumbling before writing his purchase. The man looked down and chuckled. The things one does for love, he thought with elation and adrenaline soaring.

Thwack! Thwack! Soft curses flowed from outside the second-story window. A scraping of branches, another muffled expletive, and a continuous thumping ensued against the side of the house. A tentative knock at the glass pane followed.

The young woman pulled up the window and leaned outside. She stared down at the man hanging there in amusement. She glanced over the ledge to look down beyond his dizzying position. He scaled the twenty-foot tree without falling, breaking his neck, or waking the sleeping household.

Dark eyes glowed up at her in triumph as he continued his climb. With her help, he swung his long legs over the window's ledge. She helped pull him inside the bedchamber. He bowed to her with an amused chuckle before he shut the window behind him.

He was handsome, her late-night visitor. Even with his ill-fitting, threadbare clothing and over-long dark hair, he appeared a prince to her. His features seemed too perfect by far as if sculpted by the adoring hands of the Gods.

Lady Aubrielle Dane never grew tired of looking at him, having sketched his face a thousand times by the pond behind Gale House, his neighboring estate. If only she had left it at merely looking-but no-that was never enough for them. All that touching led to more, which led to-she sighed sadly as she prepared the speech she composed that afternoon in her mind. It was a good speech, she thought, worrying her lower lip to think of his reaction to it.

Her humble prince came forward intending to embrace her. She held him off with a trembling hand up, making him frown at her odd behavior. Low firelight lit the small, elegantly shabby bedchamber within. The muted glow played upon the tense expression on the young woman's taut features. It wasn't a lover's tryst she intended at all, he realized at once.

They must talk, her brief note read, delivered to him by one of the few servants they had left at Dane Manor. The matter was grave, it implied, in undertones he could read between the lines of her fine script. He could see by the tight set of her lovely features that he would not like what she had to say.

Dorian St. Laurent stared at the object of his heart's desire with confusion growing within his dark eyes. They took much for granted these last few weeks; one of those being their intent to marry. They became lovers recently; sure they would be together forever.

The new Earl of Gale found sad circumstances when he took on his brother's title. Dorian's brother, Cassius St. Laurent, committed suicide six months prior. He was soon besieged with creditors demanding payment for his brother's excesses.

On the eve of them to announce their intentions to wed, the dowager Countess of Gale demanded an audience with her only living child. An heiress was found. The textile heiress's fortune was considerable; enough to shoulder the burdens of St. Laurent's debts. Dorian refused immediately and wouldn't relent. The woman in front of him held his heart. He would have no other, he told his mother in anger. That was three weeks before.

Lady Aubrielle's older brother, Sir Rafael Dane, took her away to London for a fortnight to separate the lovers until they saw sense in their determination to marry. They had been home only a day when she sent word to him. He believed she missed him while she was gone. He saw her pale features composed in dread and tense.

"I came as soon as I got your note," Dorian whispered huskily, his full lips curving into a soft smile that normally undermined her wits in its appeal. Her wits held fast, reminding her of all that was at stake. "What is it that has you so upset, my love?"

"We must talk, Dorian," Aubrielle whispered, her face at last composed. "Rafael received an offer for me while we were in London."

Dorian took a step back, his hands clenching at his sides. His face grew tight with anger. "Received or accepted? Which is it?"

"What is the difference?" Aubrielle trembled from the anger she sensed in him. She hugged herself about the middle as she paced before the small fireplace. "You knew his mind in this when he took me to London. He sought to find me a husband, and he has."

"And did you tell him your thoughts, Aubrielle? Mine have not changed."

Pain and disillusionment filled his handsome features. She looked away, unable to bear the helplessness reflected there. It only mirrored hers. Her heart ached to know they couldn't be together as they planned. Much changed these last few weeks they were apart, and none of it for the good.

"Dorian, he's refused your suit this whole last year." Aubrielle faced him with little courage. "He will not relent and allow us to marry. You must see that now."

Dorian looked enraged, pacing before her, dark eyes growing narrow. "We will elope then! We leave tonight. He will have nothing to say of it then." Dorian glared defiantly at her as if daring her to refuse. "We go to Scotland. The scandal will force him to allow the marriage."

"No, he will just bring me back and force me to do as he wishes. Don't you see that?" Aubrielle shook her head, tears brightening her azure blue gaze. "He will have his way in this, Dorian. We can't fight it anymore."

"So I'm to stand back and allow you to marry another?" Dorian raked a trembling hand through his dark hair in frustrated rage. "How can you expect me to do that, Aubrielle? I love you! The thought of you with another will surely kill me."

She slid onto the padded, upholstered chair at her dressing table. She clasped her shaking hands in her lap. Dear God, this was torment! "Neither of us has a choice in this anymore, Dorian. Your brother's foolishness has made your situation dire. I just learned Rafael is indebted to moneylenders. We must both marry for wealth, it appears. Don't you see that?"

"Leave my situation out of this!" Dorian's eyes filled with renewed urgency. "I don't care about any of that, Aubrielle. I told you we will make due. I will not lose you!" He grabbed her hand in his. She snatched it back, staring at him with sad resignation.

"Make due, will we? Your estate goes up for auction, Dorian. What of your mother? Have you thought of her? You can do nothing but accept Thornbury's offer, as I must agree to wed Lord Evercroft. There is no choice for us anymore. Don't you see that?."

Dorian's lips twisted bitterly to learn the name of her intended. "Lord Evercroft, no less? Since when has that damned Deveraux ever shown the slightest interest in marrying anyone? This is most interesting. Rafael seeks very high for you, doesn't he? Not happy to gain an impoverished earl for you? Oh no, he finds you a well-moneyed marquis instead!"

"I have no say in it, Dorian."

Dorian came forward, a bitter gleam in his dark eyes. He reached out and took her hand. He placed the ring on her third finger. She looked down at the large emerald and diamond ring glittering up at her. It was the last of his worldly wealth. The only reason it wasn't sold along with everything else was that he intended to give it to her. She withdrew it. She offered it back to him with a trembling hand.

She'd been gone a fortnight. Her resolve to wed no other but he buckled under her brother's constant browbeating. She would accept Lord Evercroft as her husband. She had no choice in it now. Pain seared her insides to see the anguish on his face. Tears scored the backs of her eyelids. Another matter came to mind. She was encouraged to stay resolute for that reason. That sad fact reminded her she needed to see this done. Her resolve struggled in the face of the man she adored.

"Your fight of this travesty is admirable to witness, Aubrielle." Dorian held his mother's ring clenched in his palm before he put it back in his pocket. "What happened to your determination to be with me always, my love? How did a fortnight change what's in your heart so easily?"

"Stop it! Don't do this to me, Dorian. It is done," Aubrielle replied in a stronger voice, tears glistening in her eyes. "I wish it weren't so, but this is what must happen."

"He sells you outright, Aubrielle, and you allow it!"

"The money lenders need to be paid somehow, Dorian. There is no other way," she confided, worrying her lower lip. The desire to tell him everything at that moment burned within her. Her inner voices warned her. Don't tell him! Don't do it! There's no point to it now. It's too late for all that. She sighed, looking up at him with fear etched in her expression. "They came here not long before we left for London. They made threats to him if he doesn't pay his debts. The threats are very real."

"A good thrashing would do the man some good! It only serves him right for gambling away his fortune as he has. He thought nothing of you on his way to ruin, 'tis obvious. You would sacrifice all to save his miserable hide?"

"They will kill him this time," Aubrielle added in her defense, her chin going up at his chiding tone. "He is my only brother! What would you have me do? I can no more ignore his plight, than yours, my love!"

He shrugged his broad shoulders dismissively, unconcerned for her brother's welfare. It was obvious he bore Sir Rafael Dane little affection, despite having grown up with him. They were of the same age. That was where the similarities ended.

At twenty and three, Dorian took his newfound responsibilities very seriously as the Earl of Gale. He had no love for Rafael, who was older by five years and ran his modest holdings into the dust this last year.

Aubrielle's brother had been a close friend of his older brother, Cassius. One could argue it was Cassius who led the once-responsible young baronet astray. He lured him to London and started his downward spiral at the gaming establishments. Dorian never cared for Rafael, finding him arrogant and weak-minded.

One constant Dorian believed he'd never see falter was the man's devotion to his younger sister. Rafael adored Aubrielle since her birth, spoiling her shamelessly after their parents died. That too, went to the wayside, as Rafael gambled away his modest fortune, even his sister's modest dowry. Now he would sell his sister to continue with his reckless pursuits.

"They won't kill him! He exaggerates! Where would they get their money then? No, he lies to get you to agree with this. You stand fast and he will have no recourse."

"I was here when they came for him. I listened outside the door," Aubrielle told him and shivered from the memory of the uncouth men who'd threatened him that day. "I have no choice but to marry Lord Evercroft. He has agreed to Rafael's terms."

"How much did Evercroft buy you for, Aubrielle? I would know your price." The pain on his handsome face was more than she could bear.

"He agreed to pay off Rafael's debts and give him a large sum to keep him solvent," she admitted, eyes firmly glued to his ragged boot tips.

"Don't do this to us, Aubrielle." Dorian came to her, taking both her small hands into his larger ones. His features appeared earnest in the flickering firelight. "We will make due, my love. I don't want to marry anyone else. I wish only to marry you. If I have to take any sort of employment; I will do what I must."

Aubrielle looked up at him. Her eyes blurred with unshed tears. "It's done, Dorian. The wedding is a week hence, Evercroft arrives next Saturday."

Dorian looked as if he'd been slapped. He dropped her hands. He gazed down at her in stunned anger. "You won't even try to fight this? Rafael will listen to reason if we both go to him."

"I won't sit back and watch you lose Gale House," Aubrielle answered him in a choked voice, thick with emotion. "You're not thinking straight to make such a rash decision."

"It's not your right to make both our decisions in this!" Dorian raged in turn, his arms swinging outward in frustration. "I have some say in this, Aubrielle!"

"One of us must be practical and decide! You would give all up with no thought of your future! For love, you say?" She jumped up from the chair, blue eyes flashing in anger. "You would run away and elope tonight? What of tomorrow, my love? We would be without a home and destitute. Have you no thought of your mother in your selfishness? You're responsible for more than just yourself now."

"Selfishness?" He snorted in derision, flinging her a look of disgust as he paced before her. "Forgive me if I thought you would wish to marry the man you claim to love."

"I do love you, with all of my heart, Dorian, but I can't marry you," Aubrielle repeated quietly and stiffened as shards of pain speared through her heart. "Lord Evercroft will be my husband."

"I do love you, with all of my heart, Dorian, but I can't marry you," Aubrielle repeated quietly and stiffened as shards of pain speared through her heart. "Lord Evercroft will be my husband."

Dorian saw her look away and avoided his eyes. At that moment, he knew something was amiss. He already questioned a man like Evercroft rushing to the altar. What he knew of the unrepentantly immoral nobleman led him to believe the man wouldn't be led anywhere unless forced.

He also knew her well enough to question the nervousness he observed. She was never good at hiding deceit. He saw through her efforts to sidestep whatever means Rafael used to leg-shackle Evercroft.

The Marquis of Evercroft embraced his free-living. He shocked society with his penchant for doing as he pleased, with whomever he pleased. He disdained marriage and all it stood for. He wouldn't just up and offer for a meager baronet's daughter, one with no dowry, and in such a hasty manner.

No, the man certainly didn't want or need a wife to interfere with his sordid lifestyle. The thought of Aubrielle going to the notorious nobleman tormented him in those moments, mindful of the lurid gossip surrounding him. The rumors of illicit orgies came to mind, making him cringe to think of her going to such a reprehensible man.

No, a man like the Marquis of Evercroft didn't just toss aside years of decadence to marry a young woman like Aubrielle, with no fortune, title, or background. The marquis was almost twice her age. The man avoided girls like Aubrielle as one would the plague.

Ladies ran in the opposite direction of the disreputable nobleman. Wealthy though he was, most thought it not worth their reputations to go anywhere near the man. He was not above ruining any female who crossed his path and did, with a frequency that earned him countless challenges to duels over the years.

No, Evercroft wasn't at all the marrying kind.

Dorian smelled a rat in this. He could be sure Rafael was up to his foul tricks once more. The man was not above using his own sister to line his pockets. He could be assured money was at the source of the offer the marquis made for Aubrielle.

"What have you done, Aubrielle?" Dorian demanded angrily. "Don't lie of it! I'm no fool! We both know a man like Evercroft is well out of your league!"

"I did what needed to be done." A raw sob of agony escaped her clenched lips. She closed her eyes, trembling under his fierce stare. The voices mocked her desire to collapse into his arms and confess everything. Don't tell him! Don't do it!

Dorian stared at her, taking an unsteady step backward. Comprehension dawned as his dark eyes widened. He paled in livid outrage. "You went to the man's bed, didn't you? How... could... you... do... such a thing?"

"It was the only way," Aubrielle confessed in a devastated whisper, looking away, unable to see how her words affected him. "I'm so sorry, Dorian. Rafael wanted an agreement from the Marquis before we left London. You know he always gets his way in things."

"So he tossed you into Evercroft's bed to get it?" Dorian looked at her in fury, a sneer about his lips. "That handles matters rather nicely. It's very direct and to the point; cutting through anything close to a respectable courtship. I went about mine the wrong way, I see."

"It wasn't like that at all, Dorian," Aubrielle whispered in a tortured voice. "Please, don't look at me like that. Rafael got Lord Evercroft into his cups. He drugged his wine. He didn't touch me; I swear it. He only thinks he's compromised me."

"How do you expect me to feel about this, Aubrielle?" Dorian regarded her with incredulity. "You would go along with forcing the man? And all to extort him for funds? What were you thinking? Are you completely mad?"

"How do you propose to support a wife, Dorian? Lady Gale makes her gowns from the old draperies in the salon. You steal food at every ball you attend to feed you both. Do you wish to see us die of starvation before you see the truth of things?"

Dorian glared down at her, his pride rearing up. "Don't seek to justify what you're doing! We talk about you here, not I! It's wrong what you're doing!"

"I'm marrying Lord Evercroft." She stepped away, sensing his growing rage. "When you calm down and see reason; you will see it's for the best."

"It's best only for your brother, Aubrielle!" Dorian looked ready to go find Rafael at that moment and drag him from his bed. "Don't do this!"

"Lord Evercroft thinks he's compromised me," Aubrielle repeated softly, her nails digging into her palms. "Threats of being sued made him agree to Rafael's terms. He insisted the marriage take place at once."

"You deceived the man! He had no bloody choice in this from what I can see!"

"I'm the one with no choice!" Tears escaped her eyes in a torrent, streaming down her cheeks in hot rivulets. "I won't see my brother dead when there is a means to solve everything. I won't see you lose your estate. Don't make me feel worse than I already do."

"What you do here is more than wrong, Aubrielle! It's truly despicable! It's unlike you at all. Whatever the problems, we will deal with them. Don't do this or you will live to regret it all," Dorian told her urgently. "I have a mind to go to the blasted man and tell him the truth!"

"You cannot! Please, Dorian! Think of both our families. If you care for me at all, you will say nothing. Why should they be punished for our mistake?"

"A mistake, you say?" His indrawn gasp made her chest clench. "You see our being together as a mistake? You gave yourself to me! You pledged to love me forever! Do you deny that now? Did it mean nothing to you?"

Aubrielle could see she hurt him. She had to. He must marry the wealthy merchant's daughter, and soon. She raised her chin and met his gaze, determined he would accept her decision.

Those hated voices pushed at her, prodding her now. Don't tell him! Send him away before it's too late! There was no other way. If he would hate her, so be it. Pain clenched at her heart to see his devastated expression.

"It was a mistake for us to become lovers with no real promises between us, Dorian. We had no right to act upon our feelings as we did, thinking all would end as we wished. It will be rectified when I marry Lord Evercroft."