A Gentleman Never Tells

chapter Five

Pick battles big enough to matter, small enough to win.

—Jonathan Kozol

Gabrielle waited impatiently as late afternoon sunshine slashed across her bedroom window. Since leaving her father, aunt, and sister downstairs, she had tried reading and working on her embroidery, but neither pastime could take her mind off the fact that Lord Brentwood was coming to talk with her father about their marriage.

Auntie Bethie had taken charge of the house and had insisted she handle everything concerning canceling all plans for the wedding. She never once asked Gabrielle to tell her what had happened, for which Gabrielle was grateful.

The afternoon wore on, and in a fit of unrelenting frustration over her inability to control her own destiny, Gabrielle set up her easel and a small canvas by her window. She pulled her oils and brushes from their drawer and started painting a blue, blue sky. But not even the solitude of her work soothed her troubled mind as it usually did. She couldn’t stop thinking about ways she might be able to persuade the duke from wanting to force a marriage between her and the viscount.

Considering the way Lord Brentwood had looked at her with such disdain when he found out she was betrothed, she had a little hope he simply would not agree to marry her. But if he acquiesced to pressure from her father, she had to come up with a plan of her own to present to Lord Brentwood.

From the loud knock and chatter downstairs, she knew when the viscount had arrived. She kept painting, adding a dark blue tumultuous ocean with crashing waves, and a lone ship with tattered and battered sails sitting in the middle of it. Though her hand continued its creation as the minutes passed, her thoughts kept wandering to what Lord Brentwood and her father were saying to each other about her future.

Would Lord Brentwood be strong enough to stand up to her formidable father? Or would he be like most people who had dealings with the duke and finally agree with everything he wanted?

A knock sounded on her door, and Gabrielle jumped. Her brush smeared a dark brown streak across the canvas, marring the hull of the ship she was working on.

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed under her breath. She had never been skittish in her life, and she didn’t like feeling that way. She remained quiet and hoped whoever was there would go away.

The knock came again.

“I’m painting,” she called, trying to fade the streak into the canvas. Everyone in the house knew Gabrielle didn’t want to be disturbed when she was painting. Because the house was always filled with servants and family, it was the one time she insisted she be left totally alone.

The door opened, and her maid, Petra, peeked inside. “So you are in here, my lady. It was so quiet at first, I wasn’t sure.” She stopped just inside the room and put her hands on her slender hips. “You usually let me know when you want to paint, so I can get everything ready for you. And what’s this? No apron covering that pretty pink dress you have on? What am I going to do with you?”

Gabrielle found herself smiling at Petra’s softly spoken reprimand. She absolutely adored her maid. Petra was a few years older than Gabrielle and much shorter, with a thin, narrow face and huge smile. One of the things Gabrielle had liked about Petra in her first interview was she was always smiling, even as she talked.

Looking down at her dress, Gabrielle said, “Yes, you’re right. It was careless of me to forget to put on my apron, but I really want to be by myself right now, Pet. So whatever it is you thought to do here in my room, could you come back later?”

Petra gave her a sad smile. “Mrs. Potter told me about your wedding being canceled and that I shouldn’t disturb you this afternoon.”

“And I appreciate that.”

“I’m very sorry for you, my lady.”

“Please, Pet, it isn’t the canceled wedding that is bothering me. You know better than anyone it was not a love match between me and Staunton. It’s what’s taking place downstairs right now that has me in a dither, and Auntie Bethie was right, I’m not good company for anyone, so shoo!”

Petra walked over to Gabrielle’s wardrobe and pulled out a drawer. “Can’t do that for you. Your papa sent me up here to fetch you.”

Gabrielle tensed and laid her brush down on the paint-smeared palette. “Papa wants to see me?”

“Not exactly,” Petra said, pulling out a dark wine-colored shawl trimmed with gold fringe. “I think this one will go nicely with what you have on, don’t you?”

Gabrielle pursed her lips in frustration. “I’m not cold, Pet.”

Petra walked over and wrapped the shawl around Gabrielle’s shoulders. “You will be.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I’m following His Grace’s orders. He said for me to tell you Lord Brentwood is in the garden waiting to speak to you and you may have a few minutes alone with him before he leaves.”

Gabrielle’s shoulders sagged a little. Though she knew what that meant, she didn’t want to believe it. If her father was allowing her a few minutes alone with the viscount, then another marriage contract was in the works for her.

“The sun is about to set, and the wind has whipped up,” Petra said, “and it’s bone-chilling out there, but this shawl should be enough to keep you warm for no longer than you will be in the garden.”

Gabrielle’s stomach lurched. What would she say to Lord Brentwood? Should she apologize to him again for getting him mixed up in this debacle?

No, she was through with apologies, worries, and concern.

Perhaps if her aunt had already been here, Gabrielle would have gone to her this morning instead of the park… but there was no use thinking about what might have been. She had to think about the future. No matter what her father and Lord Brentwood had decided, she had plans of her own, and she was prepared to go forward with them.

“Where is Papa?” Gabrielle asked, hooking the ends of the shawl around her elbows.

“He said he will be in his book room, where he can look out the window and see into the garden.”

“And where are Aunt Bethie and Rosabelle?”

“Lady Rosa has been in her room all afternoon, just like you, and after a long visit with your father, your aunt has been in the parlor, writing notes or letters or something.”

Gabrielle’s heart was suddenly filled with gratitude once again. She was glad her aunt had insisted on taking care of everything concerning canceling the wedding. “I’m so glad Auntie is here,” she whispered.

“Me, too,” Petra said with her usual bright smile, “because that usually means your papa leaves for a few weeks, and we all breathe easier when the duke is away.”

“Petra, you are being far too fresh with your comments,” Gabrielle admonished, knowing Petra was only voicing what all the servants had thought for years. Her father was a difficult man, but Gabrielle couldn’t allow such freedoms from servants. “You cannot be so disrespectful of my father and your employer.”

Petra’s smile evaporated quickly. “I truly meant no harm.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you must never be that familiar again.”

“Yes, my lady, I agree, and I beg your pardon a thousand times. I’m very grateful to the duke for allowing me to be in your service.”

“I know. Now, I better get out of here before Papa thinks you are the reason I’m late.”

Gabrielle left her room and hurried out the door and down the back stairs to the rear of the house. Her chest tightened as she walked. For some strange reason, she was filled with the feeling of wanting to see Lord Brentwood, yet not wanting to.

She stopped and peeked out a small window of the china-and-crystal storeroom and saw him. He sat on a bench in their small garden, one booted foot propped on his other leg. His side profile showed a high brow, straight nose, and strong chin. There was an arrogant tilt to his head, and his light brown hair fell attractively just below his collar. Gabrielle stared at him until, as if sensing someone watched him, Lord Brentwood turned his head toward the window. She quickly ducked down and flattened herself against the wall.

What was she doing spying on the viscount?

Taking a deep breath, she shored up her courage and continued on her way to the garden. At the back door, she hesitated only a moment before opening it and stepping out onto the landing.

Lord Brentwood rose from the bench. Their eyes met and held much longer than she would have wished, but for some reason, she couldn’t look away. His gaze swept lazily up and down her face, seeming to linger on her lips before settling on her eyes. After another moment, he walked toward her with a loose, lean-hipped stride that caused a breathless catch in her throat. His chest was broad and his shoulders straight. He was handsomely dressed in camel-colored trousers and waistcoat, with a dark brown coat that fit him to perfection. As he neared her, she remembered the strength she’d felt in his arms, and an unexpected heat that started at her throat rose up to flash in her cheeks and warm her against the chilling breeze.

He certainly didn’t look as scruffy as he had when she last saw him in the park. The red scratch under his eye looked a little better than when she’d seen him earlier that morning, though his bottom lip was still quite swollen. But none of that detracted from his handsomeness or the attraction she felt every time she looked at him. Somehow, the injuries made him look all the more roguish, dashing, and a little bit dangerous.

Holding her shawl tightly about her as if it were a shield, she walked down the steps to meet him.

Forgetting all about a proper greeting, she asked, “What did you say to my father?”

Brent stopped, not far from her, and folded his arms across his chest. The side of his mouth that wasn’t swollen lifted, forming a half grin that stirred the persistent butterflies in her stomach. Suddenly she was filled with hope once again. Would such a strong and commanding man as he agree to marry her after what she had done to him?

“What’s this?” he asked, his eyes almost caressing her. “Have you no enticing greeting for me this time, Lady Gabrielle? No sweet smiles to tempt me? No softly spoken words to draw me closer to you? No affectionate kiss to warm me? Must we get right to the cold, heartless business at hand as if our lips had never touched?”

Gabrielle’s breasts tightened, and her lower abdomen clenched excitedly. She felt spellbound. It surprised her how quickly and easily those same wonderful sensations that had melted through her in the park returned. Lord Brentwood was trying to seduce her right here in her own garden, with her father looking out the window.

And he was succeeding!

She swallowed hard. “Must you remind me of my lapse in sanity this morning?”

His head tilted back as if he were questioning her. “Is that what I was doing?”

“Yes, and you know it. Furthermore, you know the way I behaved was sheer madness.”

“Madness? Is that what it was?”

Yes, and that I’m feeling those same exciting sensations right now proves it!

“How can you doubt it?”

“It’s easy, because I don’t know you, Lady Gabrielle, but that is about to change.”

She lightly shook her head, and then cleared her throat and said, “All I want to do is forget we ever met. I never meant to involve you in my troubles. I’ve begged my father to leave you out of this.”

“You tried that argument on him this morning, and it didn’t work. I think we both know it was too late for that the moment your lips met mine.”

“Do you intend to remind me of that kiss every time you speak?”

That engaging half smile lifted the corner of his mouth again. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Stop it. You know what you are doing.”

He moved closer to her. “Then tell me, what were you doing in the park this morning? Are you just a terribly spoiled duke’s daughter who was looking to have a little tryst with someone before you settled down to the drudgery of marriage?”

She blinked slowly and cautiously looked at him. She could understand why it seemed that way to him. “No, of course not.”

“Then you must have been looking for some unsuspecting gentleman to waylay so you could save yourself from a marriage you didn’t want.”

“No, you’re wrong. That’s not true either.”

Lord Brentwood quirked his head to the side as if to indicate he didn’t believe her. “Then what is, Lady Gabrielle, because I can think of no other explanations.”

She couldn’t explain it to him any more than she could explain it to her father when he asked.

It was clear the viscount didn’t intend to let her get the best of him again, so she simply asked, “What did my father say to you?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Of course not, my lord. How could I possibly know what either of you said when I wasn’t allowed to be in the room while my future was discussed and, I presume, settled?”

His smug expression faded, and he gave her what looked to be a reluctant nod. “I take it you do know your father was unable to talk the Earl of Austerhill into continuing with your wedding plans to his son.”

Suddenly feeling calmer, Gabrielle loosened the tight hold she had on the ends of her shawl and relaxed a little. “Yes, and that suits me, but what did Papa say to you?”

“What I expected; that we must marry.”

“I was afraid of that,” she said. She inhaled deeply, trying to renew her strength to fight this now with Lord Brentwood. “I hope you held your ground, remained firm, and told him I was not compromised, and you have no intentions of marrying me under any circumstances.”

A half grunt, half chuckle passed his swollen lip, making his smile lopsided. “No, I didn’t.”

He spoke so quietly she was stunned for a second. Her gaze searched his face. “But surely you don’t want this marriage forced upon you any more than I do.”

“No, I don’t. But after long and somewhat rancorous negotiations, we finally settled on terms of a marriage contract. The conclusion is I will live by my honor, do my duty, and marry you, Lady Gabrielle.”

She winced inside. He might have tried to spare her feelings by calling it his duty and honor, but she knew what that really meant. Staunton was going to marry her for financial reasons, and now Lord Brentwood was going to marry her because he was being forced. She didn’t understand this honor he talked about.

“If you feel you were trapped by me, why would you agree when you know I was not compromised?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to her. “There are a number of reasons, Lady Gabrielle, not the least of which is the fact that your father is a very powerful duke who knows the King well and considers him a friend. He is well liked and often sought out for advice by the prince. Your father is admired, respected, and feared by many throughout London.”

“So you agreed to marry me because you are afraid of my father?”

Lord Brentwood snorted with derision, and a low chuckle passed his lips. His gaze held firmly on hers. “I am afraid of no man.”

“You say that, yet you ran from my father and his men this morning in the park.”

Suddenly, the viscount was so close she could feel his breath and almost taste his anger. “Do not doubt my courage.” His words were biting. “I ran to find my mother’s dog. When I pulled you into my arms, I let go of Prissy’s leash. She wandered away while you held me bewitched by your charms. I heard her yelping in pain, so I ran to help her, but your father’s men caught me and stopped me.”

Gabrielle swallowed hard. She would have done the same thing had it been Brutus who needed help. But, obviously, if Prissy had been given the kind of training Brutus had, she would have never left her master’s side.

“Oh, I see. I didn’t know,” Lady Gabrielle said without rancor but also without apologizing for misreading the situation. “As you know, it was chaotic after my father and Lord Austerhill arrived, and I’m sorry to say I didn’t notice she was gone. What was wrong with her?”

His eyes darkened as quickly as blackness filled a room when the light was extinguished. “I have no idea. I searched for her after you, your father, and his men left, but I couldn’t find her.”

She lifted her chin in surprise. “You left the park without finding her? Your mother must have been beside herself when you came home without her darling dog.”

He seemed to relax a little, though he stayed very close to her. “I’m sure she would have been if she were still living. My mother died more than two years ago.”

And still he walked her dog.

Gabrielle softened. “Prissy seemed to be very brave. I’m sure she’s fine and that she’ll find her way home soon.”

Lord Brentwood looked away from Gabrielle for a moment, and she saw it truly disturbed him that the dog hadn’t been found. Knowing how she loved Brutus, she couldn’t blame him. She felt ashamed for having as good as accused him of being a coward for running away in the park. She didn’t think that was true and wouldn’t have even said it in the first place had she not been at the point of madness over the entire day.

“I do hope you find her. I know how upset I’d be if Brutus were missing.”

“I have no doubt Prissy will be found,” he said, seeming to casually brush aside her concern. “But to answer your other question, my brothers will be moving their shipbuilding business from Baltimore, Maryland, to London in the coming weeks. Your father made it quite clear to me that, if I didn’t marry you, he had many connections and would make it impossible for my brothers’ business to be successful. Moving their business to London won’t be easy, and I will not allow your father to add to their burden.”

She knew her father would have had his solicitor find out what he could about the viscount before the day was over. When the duke wanted something, he left no stone unturned. It struck her as odd that she and Lord Brentwood were more alike than she could have imagined. She was willing to sacrifice her reputation for her sister, and he was willing to sacrifice his freedom for his brothers’ success.

“So your father gets his wish, Lady Gabrielle. We will be married.”

Gabrielle shook her head in frustration. “I didn’t want to marry Staunton, but at least I was willing to until—”

Lord Brentwood’s brown eyes narrowed and questioned her. “Until what?”

She hesitated before saying, “Until recently, but none of that matters now. I certainly don’t want to marry you, and you don’t want to marry me.”

“Well, take heart, Lady Gabrielle, it looks as though you’ll have plenty of time to get to know me, as the duke said it will likely take weeks to untangle your previous betrothal agreement with Lord Austerhill’s son. As soon as that is done, we’ll post the banns.”

She pulled her shawl up closer around her neck and positioned herself where her back was to her father’s book room window and said, “Perhaps not. I have a plan, my lord.”

His eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“Us. Thankfully, Papa does have to sort out all the financial arrangements with Lord Austerhill and his son, so I propose we lead my father to believe we are in favor of this marriage and find a way to stall it even after all other matters are settled. We can then, sometime after Christmas but before the Season starts in the spring, come up with a reason to call off the wedding.”

Lord Brentwood’s face wrinkled into a frown, but she kept talking. “That way, come the new year, you will be free to pursue more willing young ladies. The scandal of our hasty engagement will have died down, and the gossips will have moved on to someone else’s unfortunate situation. I venture to say that, halfway through the Season, no one will even remember I was once engaged to you or Staunton.”

His golden-brown eyes seemed to burn into hers. A wrinkle of warning formed on his brow. “Did you not hear what I had to say about my brothers and moving their shipping business to London? Did you not hear me speak of your father’s threat to assure they would have no success in their business?”

She blinked rapidly at his sudden change. “Yes, of course I heard.”

“Then mark my word, Lady Gabrielle, we will be married as soon as it is legally possible. I don’t know how to make myself any plainer than that.”

She would have liked to tell him her father’s intimidation was no more of a threat than Brutus’s growl, but she would be lying. The duke would have no qualms about ruining the viscount’s brothers’ business in order to achieve his goals.

Lord Brentwood’s gaze scanned her face, down her neck to her breasts, and back to her eyes. He gave her a lopsided grin. “Besides my brothers’ plight, I’ll be thirty soon, and I could do worse than to marry a powerful duke’s daughter. You will no doubt know how to manage my home. And your father is making sure your dowry is quite substantial. It’s time for me to take a wife and produce an heir. Judging from our short time together in the park, you should do quite nicely for that and be the perfect wife for me.”

She gasped. “How dare you, my lord. That was a perfectly vulgar thing to say. That you should even suggest using me as a brood mare to bear your children sounds positively ghastly.”

He leaned his head in closer to hers and hooded his eyes with determination. “You may think so now, but once I get you beneath me, I will prove to you that you are no lady, Gabrielle. I will have you in my bed, and I promise you will not want to leave it.”

She shivered and hugged her woolen shawl more tightly around her. “You are being unbelievably ill-mannered, Lord Brentwood.”

His gaze stayed firmly on hers. “Perhaps I’m thinking it’s fitting right now for a young lady who walks out of the mist and into my arms. You are a tempting wench in spite of the fact that, for your own selfish reasons, you used me in your plan to get rid of the earl’s son.”

“No, no— I—” For a brief moment, she was tempted to tell him the truth.

“Yes, and now you have me, Lady Gabrielle. Before you approached me in the park, perhaps you would have done well to have remembered the old adage my mother used to say to me: ‘Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.’”

Gabrielle straightened her backbone, his words giving her strength to continue the fight. “I never wished for you.”

“Didn’t you? A knight in shining armor to rescue you from what you perceived was a fate worse than death?”

Gabrielle couldn’t deny that. She could only imagine that if she had married the man her sister loved, death would be welcome.

“The only thing I haven’t figured out yet is if you wanted to be rescued from your father or your fiancé. Perhaps it was both.”

Was that true? Did she secretly want to be rescued from a loveless marriage, from her father’s tyrannical ways?

She fixed him with a determined frown. “If I had wanted to be rescued from my father, that could have been easily accomplished, my lord, because my wedding to Staunton was only a week away. But why would I have wanted to be rescued from one loveless marriage just to be forced into another with you?”

“It’s your story. You tell me.”

“I may be forced to marry you, my lord, but I assure you, your bed will not be an easy one. You will find it cold, hard, and empty.”

His crooked smile turned into an attractive chuckle that held promises she didn’t want to think about and sent her pulse racing. He thought she was lying, and that made her all the angrier.

His gaze swept up and down her face again in a way that sent chills of anticipation storming throughout her body.

“I’m up to the challenge, Lady Gabrielle. Let’s see how cold, hard, and empty that bed will be when you are like butter melting beneath my hot palm.”

“You are no gentleman, Lord Brentwood.”

“I don’t think you were looking for a gentleman when you walked into my arms this morning. But you are the one who walked into my life, and make no mistake, there you shall live.”

He took another step away from her. “I would give you the kiss your pouting lips are asking for if your father wasn’t watching from that window, but there will be plenty of time for that. I’ll see to it. Perhaps later in the week at a party, or maybe I’ll call on you and take you for a ride in the park. For now, I will take my leave and see myself out the back gate.”

Gabrielle seethed with anger. How dare he say she had pouting lips or that she would be like butter melting beneath his hands? She watched him walk away with all the confidence of the titled man he was. So he thought he was in control. So he thought a duke’s daughter would do nicely as a proper wife for him.

He was in for a surprise.

She was no longer the obedient, dutiful person she was just yesterday. That person was gone for good. She rather liked herself as the lady who had the courage to kiss a stranger. And that lady wasn’t going away.

Gabrielle heard the back door open, and she turned and saw her father and her aunt walking down the steps. The duke hadn’t bothered to don a coat or cape, but her aunt was clutching a black shawl around her arms. Fog was stealing in with feathery wisps of mist. The cold air felt damp and threatening. Gabrielle was glad her aunt had come to London and would be staying with her for a while.

“Gabby,” her father said, “now that your aunt is here, I’ve decided to leave for Windergreen the day after tomorrow. The Duke of Norfolk has invited me to his hunting lodge, and I will go there for a few days as well.”

Her heart constricted. “But, Papa, nothing is resolved.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it is. It takes time to settle a breach of contract, and there’s nothing I can do here while that is being done except pray Staunton and his father will be reasonable in what they ask for. I’ll spend tomorrow with my solicitor so he will know what I’m willing to do to settle this thing. Unfortunately, we can’t go any further with Lord Brentwood until that is handled. Your aunt will be of more use to you in the days to come than I will be.” He cut his eyes around to Auntie Bethie and gave her a disdainful look. “I’m sure she’s been involved in more than one scandal in her lifetime.”

Auntie Bethie laughed. “Quite true, Duke. My family never lived down the scandal of my sister’s marrying you.”

“Huh!” he huffed. “You best be glad she did. It has kept you in a fine lifestyle for many years.” He turned back to Gabrielle. “I expect Elizabeth to look after you and not allow you out of her sight. I don’t want to hear one more word of scandal concerning you, or I’ll banish both of you to Northern Coast of Scotland.”

“You’ll have no more trouble from me, Papa,” Gabrielle asserted.

“See that I don’t. And I’ll expect you to take care of your sister. You know how quickly her temperament can change.”

Without further words, the duke turned and went back inside.

Auntie Bethie stepped closer to Gabrielle and said, “Now that the roaring bear is gone, we can talk. You don’t look like you want to, but it would probably be good for you if you did.”

Gabrielle slightly shook her head and turned to watch Lord Brentwood close the gate without looking back at her. “It’s too difficult to explain, and even if I could, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You aren’t giving me much credit for having gained wisdom with my advanced years.”

Staring out over the garden, Gabrielle said, “I’m sorry, Auntie. It’s just that I did the wrong thing this morning, which turned out to be a good thing, which then caused another bad thing.”

Her aunt laughed in a low, gravelly voice. “That’s easy to understand, and it makes perfect sense to me.”

Gabrielle turned toward her aunt and smiled. “No it doesn’t, because it doesn’t even make sense to me.”

“Of course it does,” Auntie Bethie said, trying to convince her. “You did something you shouldn’t have, which must have involved the man who just went out that gate.”

“Yes.”

“It turned out all right because it canceled your wedding, and you are obviously happy about that.”

Gabrielle nodded. Auntie Bethie understood better than Gabrielle thought she would.

“But that something good caused a different bad thing to happen, which I’m assuming is the scandal your broken engagement is going to cause, not to mention your father is quite peeved that he’ll have to settle money and probably lands, too, for your breach of contract. And I haven’t quite decided where the viscount fits into all that, but something about him is bothering you, too.”

Gabrielle looked at her with awe. “You did understand. That’s a fairly close estimate of what has happened because of me and one mistake I can’t take back.”

“I understood because you sounded so very much like your mother when you were talking just now, the way you had that wistful look to your eyes. You want so desperately always to do the right thing, and if you do make a mistake, you must set everything right.”

“That is how I feel, Auntie. But did I really sound like my mother?”

Her aunt nodded and smiled sadly at Gabrielle. “Oh, yes. She always wanted to do the right thing, and it tormented the fires of hell out of her when she didn’t.”

“Auntie.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” her aunt said without apologizing for her indelicate language. “She was always coming to me and saying, ‘Oh, Bethie, what should I do about this?’ Or, ‘Bethie, I did this and such, or I said that and the other, and I shouldn’t have. What can I do?’ She was always in a dither about something. And I would always tell her, ‘Forget about it, dearie. It doesn’t matter.’ But she wouldn’t rest until she made whatever it was right. Now me, I’m a far different person.” She winked at Gabrielle and chuckled low in her throat again.

“Not so much, Auntie,” Gabrielle said.

“Oh yes, I am, and Rosa is more like me. I never cared a bluebell in hell if what I did was right or wrong. I only cared to do what I wanted when I wanted.”

“Shame on you, Auntie,” Gabrielle said with no real admonishment in her voice. “And you know Rosa is not like that.”

She gave her a curious look. “You don’t think so?”

“No, of course not.”

Auntie Bethie shrugged. “Everyone has their own opinion. So tell me what goes on with this handsome viscount who just left. From what little you’ve said and what your father told me about your being in the park this morning, it sounds to me as if Mr. Alfred Staunton is out of favor with you and Lord Brentwood is in.”

Gabrielle inhaled deeply and then said, “Definitely Staunton is out of my life, and yes, Lord Brentwood is in it—for now.”

“And that means?”

“That right now, Papa and the viscount want us to marry, but I’m trying to find a way to keep that from happening.”

Her aunt frowned. “Why don’t you want to marry him? You met him in the park.”

Gabrielle didn’t want to go over all that again, so she said, “I don’t want another arranged marriage, Auntie. And I certainly don’t want Lord Brentwood to marry me because he’s forced to.”

Her aunt gave her a naughty smile. “You could always find another handsome gentleman to kiss in the park. Dare I say that would be an easy way to get rid of the viscount?”

“Oh, no, Auntie,” Gabrielle said, shaking her head as she wrapped the shawl tighter about her. “I’ve learned my lesson about that. Once was enough for me. I must find a way out of this situation without creating another scandal. And I will.”