Page 72 of My Darling Rogue
“Gabriel, please.” She was pleading with him, but for what, he did not know. Mercy? Understanding? Absolution?
Guilt rose to choke Gabriel, along with the dread of suspicion. Either he’d hurt her enough that she bled or she had lied in a desperate attempt to avoid marriage.
Marriage to him.
“I’m waiting for an explanation.”
Celia let out a sob of such anguish it nearly ripped Gabriel’s heart into pieces. But while she squirmed against his grip in a series of useless movements, he held her in place, his face an emotionless mask.
“I do not know. I don’t, I swear it!” she cried out in a soft wail. “It only happened once, but the pain was so unbearable. I begged him to stop, to let me go. But he did not. He held me down and kept going… and going… until he…”
Gabriel could not believe what he was hearing. Someone had attacked her? Someone forced themselves upon his sweet, fiery Celia? Someone stole from her the singular prized possession a young woman of society could offer a man?
Rage began slowly building inside him. A lust to maim and kill the man responsible for this atrocity against his wife beat like war drums inside his veins.
But the blood he’d cleaned from between her thighs reminded Gabriel he was certainly not innocent by any means. Thinking she was experienced meant he’d taken Celia as roughly as he would have fucked a courtesan in a brothel. He’d spanked her, toyed with her, and plunged inside her tight depths with a single-minded determination to feed his own obsession. Yes, she found her pleasure, but at what cost?
Releasing Celia’s hands, Gabriel slowly rose from the bed. Immediately, she yanked the coverlet over her body and up to her chin. She watched as he silently washed the cloth out in the basin and then discarded the water in a separate bucket behind a small bathing screen.
Picking up his discarded shirt, Gabriel thrust his arms through the sleeves, buttoning it with cold efficiency. He could not stem the anger bleeding through his actions, nor did he consider how it might appear to Celia.
His glare was truly not meant for her, but it was directed in her direction, regardless. She was a convenient vessel for his frustration.
“Who was it, Celia? And why did he not face the consequences for his actions? Many a man has been forced to the alter based on such behavior.”
The question startled Celia. She stared up at him, her lush bottom lip clenched between her teeth. “Perhaps my parents did not care to see me married to a cruel beast.”
“Who. Was. It?” Gabriel bit out in a voice that made men tremble in their boots upon hearing it. He was the most feared man in all of London’s underground, and yet the look in this girl’s eyes shifted from fear to stubbornness in a matter of seconds.
“You do not get to ask me that, my lord. Before I agreed to marry you, you said the past did not matter. It still does not matter. I will not tell you the name of the man because it will change nothing. You knew my secret. You knew I was not pure before you dragged me into Ravenswood’s chapel.”
“Celia, what I have discovered just now changes matters. I want the man’s name. Otherwise, I shall conduct my own search, and I won’t care who I hurt or kill in discovering his identity.”
Celia scooted up in the bed, unsuccessfully hiding a wince of pain. “You willnot, my lord. You will abide by the terms of our agreement, or I shall petition the queen for an annulment.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Gabriel scowled.
“No. You are the one being foolish,” Celia snapped back, moving until she leaned against the bed’s headboard. “You are the new Marquess of Rosenthorne. You have a mountain to conquer in proving yourself worthy of the title. Will you jeopardize everything over a matter which cannot be altered or erased? Will you have others know I did not come to this marriage a virgin? More importantly, will you shame my family? My parents have no knowledge of what occurred to me, nor does my brother or anyone else for that matter. You are the only one to whom I’ve revealed my secret, and I only did so because… because…” Her fierce statement broke off in a choked sob.
“For what reason did you tell me, Celia?” Gabriel demanded. “Did you hope I would reject you? Did you tell me for the sole purpose of avoiding marriage to a bastard only to have your efforts fail?”
Celia’s eyes narrowed, even as a tear slipped down her cheek. “You are not a bastard, Gabriel. And I told you because I could not bear to witness your disappointment upon discovering your bride had already served another man’s pleasure.”
Gabriel’s jaw clenched. Heaven help him, but she was right. He had insisted it did not matter who she’d been with before him. It still did not matter, but the entire situation had become rather murky now. He wanted the name of the man who’d harmed her, and he wanted Celia to willingly provide it.
More than anything, he wanted her trust.
Celia’s jaw tilted as they stared at one another, and Gabriel growled with frustration. With quick, jerky motions, he tucked in his shirt. Forgoing the cravat, he shrugged into his dark burgundy-hued coat.
“Keep this door locked and do not wait up for me. I won’t return until long after you’ve fallen asleep.” He turned the doorknob and hesitated as if reminded of something. “I will have one of the coachmen stand watch for your safety until I come back. Enjoy your dinner.”
Celia bit her lip, obviously concerned about being left alone, but her chin rose even higher. “I wish you a pleasant evening, dear husband.”
Gabriel did not respond to the faint mockery in her tone as he exited the room, locking the door behind him as he went.
CHAPTER30
Gabriel sent Jeremiah to guard the door to their room, and then he found a table and ordered an ale.
