Emotion swelled in Celia’s throat, choking her with the reality of her situation.

Gabriel’s hand cupped Celia’s jaw with firm tenderness. “We are attracted to one another. I care for you. The title ensures it is a good match. And there is no denying we were caught in a comprising situation.”

“One of your making, Gabriel.”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Yes. You are right, and I’ll be damned if I am sorry for that moment we shared in the garden. I know there is more to your objections. Some other reason for fighting this that I’ve yet to uncover. You remember me saying once that I would discover all your secrets? This one is the most important. So, tell me, Celia. Tell me the truth. Why would marriage to me be distasteful?”

Celia’s lips clamped shut. Reveal her secret? She could not. But she also did not know what to do. Perhaps she could blame her reluctance on something many young ladies in her position likely experienced. She wanted freedom. A right to choose her own husband. The right to follow her own path.

Gabriel’s eyes sharpened, his hand gripping her wrist just a little tighter. “I will know if you lie to me, Celia. And I punish liars.” His head dipped toward hers, his nose gently brushing her temple in a frightening juxtaposition to the harsh words. “I enjoy administering punishments, if you want the truth of the matter.”

Celia’s breath escaped in a shaky puff of air. “You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t.”

Amusement briefly lit the whiskey-colored depths of his gaze. “No, but I will make sure you are extremely uncomfortable. Now, no more stalling. Tell me, Celia.”

Celia trembled. Her pulse pounded so fiercely, forcing its way through her veins, that she felt faint. And before she knew what was happening, the words bubbled up, escaping her throat in a helpless admittance of guilt.

“I am not pure. I am not the one you deserve as a bride.” She choked on a sob. “Don’t you understand? I am not a virgin, Gabriel. I cannot possibly become your marchioness.”

He froze in place, his features turning to stone but not before she saw the hurt he could not conceal. His fingers closed with almost painful intensity on her wrist before he caught himself. For a heart-stopping moment, Celia thought he might cast her aside in disgust. Instead, his grip loosened.

“Do you think that matters, Celia? To me, of all people? I was nothing more than a bastard until earlier this evening. If you are worried you might sully the title I now carry, do not fret. My father’s actions were a defilement on their own.” His laughter was a bitter sound, his eyes pinning her with the promise of sinful fantasies and punishments. “Besides, do you honestly believe I don’t already know everything about you? Especially something of such magnitude? I’m well aware of the fact you are not a virgin. You might be surprised to know that the how and why of it matter very little to me.”