“He’s not a marquess yet,” Celia muttered beneath her breath. “And I won’t bow before him like the rest of you are apparently content to do.”

Heath sipped his brandy, hiding a smile. Lady Darby pressed a hand to her heart in dismay, and Sebastian shuffled some papers upon his desk as if he’d not overheard Celia’s statement.

Gabriel’s jaw clenched.

Ivy and Sara both appeared distressed by Celia’s words, but it was Ivy who broke the tension first.

“My sweet friend, listen to me.” She took Celia by the hands, drawing her up to her feet. “What you believe to be the end of your life is truly the beginning of an adventure. You and Gabriel feel something for one another, and that is something to be grateful for.”

“Would you accept this if it were you?” Celia demanded with a touch of hysteria in her tone. “Would you blindly go along with this farce? This sham of a marriage?”

A frown creased Gabriel’s brow. He’d not considered how trapped she’d feel when he coerced her into accepting his proposal.

Ivy had the grace to blush with Celia’s heated question.

“No,” she admitted, her mouth curving with a rueful smile. “And I did fight when my marriage was forced upon me.”

“Like a wildcat,” Sebastian interjected. “Even after I threatened her.”

Ivy waved her hand at her husband to hush before her attention returned to Celia. “Of course, I could have refused more strenuously, and Ravenswood knew it. I could have run away. Hid away in the country. Married another man.”

“Over my dead body,” Sebastian growled.

Ivy ignored that and continued. “There were few options open to me, but I was not helpless. I chose to marry the earl. Because in my heart, I knew the truth. Regardless of everything else, we were meant to be together. I ask that you do the same as I did, Celia. Look into your heart. You will see the answer clearly if you do that one thing.”

“It was the most intelligent decision she’s ever made,” Sebastian interjected, laughing softly when Ivy shot him an exasperated glare.

Silence hung in the room for a long moment before Gabriel said in a low voice, “I will speak with Celia alone. Now.”

“Already behaving like a true marquess,” Alan said with a smirk. His comment earned a dark glare from Gabriel.

“If my presence is no longer required, I shall return to bed,” Heath remarked, setting his glass down on a nearby table. Taking Celia’s hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it as she returned his smile. “Goodnight, dear sister. We shall speak more tomorrow as I’m certain you have questions and Gabriel will not be here to provide answers.”

“She’s not your sister. Yet,” Gabriel grumbled. He did not like the easy friendship he sensed forming between Celia and Heath. It left him feeling like an outsider. An imposter with no business claiming his father’s title. A nobody who should stay in the shadows. “And I shall explain things without your assistance, Banbury.”