A distressed sound escaped Celia’s throat.

“I did not wait to see what else he would say or do. I stormed out of the room, gathered my things, and slipped out into the streets of Paris. And I learned during those years on my own that the only person I could rely on was myself.”

“So, you did not know he’d married your mother? That you were his son in every sense of the word?”

Gabriel shook his head as the footmen removed the bowls of soup and servants brought in the next course of roasted pheasant and creamed peas. He waited until they could once again speak in private. “No. And even had I known, I doubt it would have made much of a difference. Being legally recognized as his son would not have changed his actions when it came to sending my mother away so her existence would not embarrass him.”

There could be no mistaking the angry resentment Gabriel’s words contained, but Celia recognized an even deeper emotion her husband carried inside. Pain and betrayal seeped from him as though they were being squeezed out.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I hope your father experienced remorse for his actions and for hurting you.”

Gabriel stabbed at the piece of fowl on his plate. “Perhaps he did. I cannot explain why he decided to make me his heir. No one knew he was my legitimate father. He could have gone to his grave keeping my mother and myself a secret.”

“But he did claim you.” Celia was determined that Gabriel not keep this hurt bottled up inside him. “And that must count for something. Perhaps one day he would have sought you out again so you could reconcile your differences. He might have played a role in your life and atoned for his mistakes.”

Gabriel scrubbed a hand over his face and gulped down the contents of his wine glass, motioning for the footman to refill it. “Perhaps.” His features hardened, a muscle ticking along his jaw. “No more questions, sugarplum.”

Celia nodded in agreement. She was silent for a long moment, using her fork to toy with the pheasant on her plate, then said, “When may we send word that Lord Banbury come for a visit? It will be pleasant becoming better acquainted with my new brother-in-law. He is quite charming.”

Her husband made a non-committal sound. His eyes darkened as he tilted his wine glass until the ruby-red liquid swirled around the glass bowl.

“I think you will enjoy the opportunity of becoming closer to your brother, too,” Celia pressed. “He is family, of course.”

Gabriel gave her an unfathomable look. “You are my family now, Celia. And the only one I will ever need or want.”

The possessive note in his voice made Celia’s heart swell. And the way he was looking at her now, with eyes dark and sinful, his lips curving just enough to have her wondering what he found so amusing, made her pulse race. He’d looked at her in the same manner just the night before. When he had taken her with such violent deliciousness and later argued over the reluctance to spill her secrets. Did all men look at their wives in such a way? As though they could not wait to devour them?