Heath tilted his head before nodding. “As you wish, brother.”

“Seven hells. Stop calling me that, Banbury.” Gabriel hated that his tone was decidedly peevish. “We hardly know one another well enough for such familiarity.”

An expression of saddened regret flashed across Heath’s features as he joined the others in their departure. “I hope to remedy that, Gabriel.”

Gabriel did not respond. Instead, he reached for Celia’s hand, tugging her to him with a restrained show of strength. She collided against his chest with a soft, exhaled “Oh!”

“Gently, Rose,” Sebastian said with a frown as he paused in the study’s doorway.

“It goes against my nature, but for her, I will be,” was Gabriel’s reply. He inclined his head in deference to Lady Darby. “I shall escort your daughter to her bedchamber once we are done here.”

“I suppose no further harm can come in allowing you some privacy. The wedding will happen regardless.” Lady Darby accepted Lord Banbury’s arm as they stepped into the corridor and gave her daughter a bright smile. “Good night, my dear. I will see you in the morning before I leave for home.”

The door clicked shut and then Gabriel and Celia were alone.

Gabriel did not let go of her wrist, although she tried jerking free.

“Not so fast, sugarplum,” he crooned. “As Banbury said, we have a few issues to settle between us. This whole situation has taken on a life of its own, but we will resolve everything before this wedding takes place.”

CHAPTER 19

“What is there to resolve, Gabriel?” Celia demanded. “We will be married. As you wished.”

Gabriel’s eyes bored into hers. A muscle worked in his jaw, and again, Celia thought she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.

How odd that he seems apprehensive. Does he regret the course our lives are now on? Does he wish we’d never acted on the attraction we share?

Celia’s hands grew clammy with anxiety. Whatever Gabriel was thinking in that moment was quickly shuttered until she could no longer see it in his features. After the explanation of how he’d come to be named Marquess, she still did not understand why he wanted her for a wife.

He sighed as if greatly disturbed by her show of reluctance.

“I need you to want this marriage as badly as I do, Celia. I cannot do this without you at my side. Frankly, I do not want to even try. You know as well as I that should we not go through with this, the consequences will not be pleasant. You shall be ruined, and I will end up banished or perhaps find myself facing your brother on the opposite end of a pistol.”

That statement sent a bolt of icy fear streaking through Celia’s body. If she did not do what was expected of her, the very real possibility existed that someone could die.

Tristan. Or maybe Gabriel.