Page 35 of My Darling Rogue
Gabriel glared at him. They were alone now. Now that Heath had been shown to a guest room. Now that Gabriel’s life was essentially ruined. Now that everything he knew of himself was questionable.
“I learned the marquess was my father the year I turned sixteen. He did not acknowledge me then and it doesn’t need to happen now.”
Sebastian turned his tumbler over in his hands. “It’s not so simple, ignoring a matter of such magnitude.”
“Banbury may have it.”
“According to Banbury, he cannot claim it as long as you are alive. Your parents’ marriage before your birth made you the legal heir. No matter that Rosenthorne wed another soon after your mother’s death and later fathered another son. You are firstborn. You, my friend, are the new marquess regardless of your reluctance to claim it. And I know you have your own wealth, but you just came into a windfall.”
“I’ve no need of his damned money. He threw my mother aside, Seb. Abandoned her in the cruelest manner and left me in the care of strangers. Then he promptly procured himself a new wife. Along with a new son.” Gabriel paced before the fireplace in restless agitation. “If I were legally his and my mother his wife, why did he abandon us both? I don’t believe he married her. After all, he only confessed this to Banbury while on his deathbed. Perhaps he suffered a state of delirium.”
“There is proof. A marriage license and the minister who performed the ceremony. The marquess swore to it in that statement crafted along with his barrister’s assistance and witnessed by his physician.” Sebastian refilled their glasses with whiskey. “It seems Rosenthorne intended on atoning for his misdeeds.”
Gabriel slanted Sebastian a look full of suspicion. “Are you not surprised by this momentous revelation that Rosenthorne is my father?”
Sebastian sighed. “I learned that secret shortly after we arrived in England. But like you, I had no idea you were his legitimate son. It wasn’t that difficult to guess if one took the time to look. You bear an uncanny likeness to the old marquess. And to Banbury.”
Gabriel scrubbed his jaw. “Over the last two years, you’ve said nothing.”
“It’s not my story to tell. Gabriel, think hard on this before you walk away. It is an opportunity to gain everything you ever wanted. An opportunity to claim the woman you want.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. A muscle ticked along its clenched length. He knew precisely what Sebastian meant by that. His status as a bastard had just been shattered. Now, as a bachelor with a lofty title, he would find himself besieged by women eagerly hoping they might become a marchioness.
“Damned if I want a woman whose only interest lies in the titles a man holds,” he growled.
God’s blood.He was a bloody marquess. The title was thrown into his lap simply because a man died and decreed it so. The same heartless man who’d married Eleanor Rose in secret before hiding her away in shame until she bore him a son. It was all too fantastical to believe.
Now, there were no obstacles standing in his way when it came to Celia Buchanan. If he wanted her, he could claim her. Indeed, her parents would likely present her on a silver platter for the taking.
And Celia would hate him forever if the choice of a husband was not her own.
“I know your life has suddenly been turned upside down,” Sebastian murmured. “And your future is now something you must plot out. I will assist in any way I can, Gabriel, and your friends will be at your side as well.”
“I have no idea how I am to operate in such a world, Seb. I’ve spent my life in the shadows. I’m the man others do not acknowledge unless necessary. The thought of losing my anonymity, being recognized as a marquess. It may be too heavy a burden for a man like myself.”
“You will know what to do. I will help you every step of the way. Along with Richeforte and Bentley.”
Gabriel’s throat clenched when he thought of the surprising path he’d been tossed upon. He was having trouble accepting the idea. How would Celia take this shocking news? Would she distance herself from him? Or become one of the vapid, empty-headed, marriage-minded ladies crowding London’s ballrooms?
“I must speak with Lady Celia.” Gabriel downed the remaining whiskey and set the glass down on Sebastian’s desk. He could not discount the sense of urgency he suddenly experienced. Suddenly, it was all he could think about. Seeing her and her reaction to this incredible news.
“You will seek her out sooner rather than later?”
Gabriel allowed himself a small smile. “I shall do so this very instant. And hope she’ll listen as I try explaining things. The lady was rather perturbed when I left her in the library, so my chances with her are far from ideal.”
Sebastian’s head cocked. “Does this mean you will accept the marquessate?”
“I will consider it. But I can make no promises on a final decision. Yet.”
* * *
Gabriel searchedfor Celia for over an hour. Whispers hung in the air behind him as he moved through Beaumont’s various rooms in his hunt. No one knew Celia’s whereabouts, but rumors were rife concerning Heath Banbury’s unexpected appearance and what it meant.
He ignored all questions until he came across Ivy.
The young countess already knew the surprising turn of events. Taking Gabriel’s arm, she guided him outside the Blue Drawing room where several games of whist were taking place. A small measure of privacy existed in the corridor, even with guests coming and going and servants bustling about.
She squeezed his arm, beaming up at him. “This is wonderful news, Gabriel. It truly is.”
