Page 70 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
Regaining control of his breathing and ignoring the pain which roared like a demon, Drew stood. One hand pressed against the pain in his side, the other wiped the blood from his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.
Beyond Marlow, Drew saw that they had an audience in the hall; other occupants of the inn stood watching. Because Drew only wore a shirt the reason for this argument was loud and clear.
Following Drew’s gaze, Pembroke turned and slammed the door shut in their faces.
Mary’s fingers touched Drew’s side. ‘We are to be married.’
‘And yet he could not wait until then,’ her father said accusingly.
Drew smiled, belittling her father’s judgement.
‘Do you really think he intended taking you to Gretna?’ Marlow snarled, his stare challenging her.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
Drew was a naïve fool when it came to love – more naïve than she was in other things; he had known this scene would come and not once considered what this would mean to her. Her chin lifted, defiance shining in her glassy, moistened eyes, as tears streaked her cheeks.
He wrapped his arm, the sleeve bloody from wiping his cut mouth, around her shoulders and pulled her to him.
‘He does not have the money to even get you there,’ her brother said bitterly. ‘The duns were at his apartment when we called there, they had heard he’d disappeared.’
‘Mary, listen to us,’ her father said, suddenly deflated. ‘If he wished to reach Gretna and not be found, why are you still here at nearly eleven?’ He put his hand in his coat pocket, withdrew a card and threw it so it spiralled to the floor at Mary’s bare feet. ‘And why would he leave his calling card at the last inn and ensure you were noticed at every toll gate? He asked the last man to recommend this inn so we would know where you were. He has been leaving a trail, he wanted us to follow. He cannot have the funds to reach the border, and he cannot afford to keep you. He needs me to pay for your wedding…’ He sighed heavily.
Drew fought the pain in his side, standing straighter and holding Mary close. ‘Lacking money is not a crime.’Except that he owed people, and that was.But Mary knew why they had not hurried to the border. She had wanted her father to catch up as much as he had, albeit for a different reason. Marrying in London would cement his status in the Pembroke family. A hushed wedding in Gretna would only increase the scandal that had surrounded him all his life.
Marlow and Pembroke ignored him.
‘Mary, he does not love you.’ Pembroke’s tone and temper were less harsh now. ‘He loves your wealth.’
She shook her head, but he could feel her confidence slipping as her hand fell away from him. He clung to her with an aggressive desire to keep what was his. This was like standing at one end of a hemp rope playing tug of war, and poor Mary was the rope. He would not let go. They could not pull her free anyway, she must become his wife.
‘But it is pointless us arguing. It is too late. You made your choice,’ Marlow said.
‘He does love me,’ Mary stated in trembling defiance.
‘He doesn’t know how to love, but he does know how to lie,’ Pembroke mocked. ‘You may think him in love with you, but he asked Kate to go to bed with him the same night he danced with you last season.’
Drew felt like he had been punched in the gut again.Damn Pembroke…He had asked her, but it was not a serious offer. If she had agreed he would have declined. It was only because Pembroke annoyed him. ‘It was a joke,’ he thrust back.
Mary’s lips parted as she looked at him with shock and she stepped away.
Drew’s pain intensified, emotional now as well as physical.
If Mary loved him, she should trust him.
Her arms hung limp at her sides, her eyes expressing her confusion. ‘It is true…?’
‘It was over a year ago. I said it to annoy him because he was warning you against me.’
She turned away and picked up her clothes.
The devil take it…He would not demean himself and beg for her understanding.
Mary!his inner voice shouted.
‘It would serve him well if I withheld your dowry,’ Pembroke said. ‘But I cannot leave you in poverty, Mary, which I presume is why he bedded you, to make sure we agreed the match.’
Pembroke walked across the room to where Mary stood with her clothes once more clutched to her chest. ‘Mary…’ He touched her arm. ‘Do not trust him. I’m sure he’s seduced you with kisses and words of love, but they are false. I’m sorry.’
