Page 86 of My Darling Rogue
Already on a friendly basis since the beginning of the Season two years prior, Celia embraced the petite blonde woman. Gabriel was encouraged by the lady’s enthusiastic greeting and warm smile of welcome when Ethan introduced them.
Gabriel followed Celia’s lead, taking the well-wishes and numerous invites all in stride, never revealing his inner conflict.
He was an imposter among these glittering, polite faces. He had killed before. Ruined those who’d deserved it. Gambled alongside the very worst reprobates and visited too many brothels to count. He’d seen a few of these gentlemen in some of those disreputable places. The men he recognized, all highly respected lords, ducked their heads at Gabriel’s scrutiny. A few smiled sheepishly while clapping him on the back and welcoming him into the inner circle of society.
These people accepted and celebrated him. Apparently, they did not care Gabriel’s father had abandoned him to be raised as a bastard. Did not care his mother was an opera house performer whose husband banished her after the wedding, ashamed of her lack of social status.
None of that mattered. Because what mattered now were the possibilities of everything Gabriel was capable of as a powerful marquess. The favors he could grant. The hopes he could crush. The lives he could change. And the dreams he could make come true.
As the evening wore on, Gabriel slowly learned a valuable lesson about his newfound influence and its impact on those around him. Theton,this new world into which he’d been thrust,was no different and no better than the murky underground he’d survived for years.
And he realized with sudden clarity, his experiences before becoming the Marquess of Rosenthorne would serve him well.
“With the Season beginning soon, you will find it difficult getting away from London for longer than a few days, but will you take a honeymoon, Lady Rosenthorne?” Margaret asked during dinner.
“Please, I’m still ‘Celia’ when amongst friends, regardless of the new title.” Celia smiled at Margaret, her eyes straying to where her husband sat at the other end of the table. “And I am unsure of Lord Rosenthorne’s thoughts on the subject. It’s been a whirlwind since we’ve married.”
Lady Amelia Palmerton arched an eyebrow. “Such a hasty engagement and la, the wedding details are simply fantastical.” The woman’s tone was almost snide, concealed by the genial smile she wore pasted on her features. “Is it true, my dear, that the marquess had Lord Harvey taken into custody by the local constable? It’s being said the poor man spent a miserable night in a cell with the village drunk before Lord Ravenswood directed that he be released.”
Celia slanted a glance in Gabriel’s direction, obviously unsure how she should respond.
With a heavy sigh, Gabriel nodded in agreement that he would take on the old dragon. He cleared his throat, drawing Lady Palmerton’s attention.
“It was absolutely necessary. The man could not be trusted around the marchioness, having attempted an abduction just prior to his detainment. He was releasedtwodays later, atmydirection, and suffered no harm that I am aware of.”
Lady Palmerton held a hand to her bosom in exaggerated shock. “But still, my dear Marquess. One does not go about such matters in such a barbaric way! There are certainly more genteel ways of handling things. You simply must learn that life as a peer of the realm is very different from the rough and tumble one you led before your father’s death resulted in your new title.” The lady’s censorship was quite obvious, as was her general dislike for Gabriel.
He regarded her with a steely, imperious stare. “Should I have done the honorable thing and challenged him to a duel? I chose the most rational of options available. I’m sure Lord Harvey appreciates my restraint. The man lives because of my discretion. Hopefully, he will think twice before attempting such foolishness again.”
Lady Palmerton’s lips thinned. “Well, I believe it was simply savage behavior.”
Seated beside Celia, Lord Palmerton frowned at his wife’s insistence on continuing with the subject. Everyone else at the table had quickly fallen silent, curious to see how the new marquess navigated the disapproval by one of society’s dragons of propriety.
Gabriel’s smile was cruel patience. “I must disagree with you, Lady Palmerton. Savagery would have involved beating the man to a bloody pulp, which I fervently wished to do. I will not abide any man laying a hand on my property nor harming the people I care for.”
“It is good that many gentlemen do not share your propensity for violence, Lord Rosenthorne,” Lady Palmerton primly replied.
Gabriel took a sip from his wine glass and found Celia staring at him, an expression blended of both horror and pride stamped over her pale features. She’d not known it was he who ordered Lord Harvey released the day following their marriage.
With his gaze caressing and fiercely possessive, Gabriel raised his glass to her. It was an apologetic salute in light of his following words.
“And I find it appalling more men are unwilling, or perhaps unable, to protect what is theirs. Marquess or no, I will do whatever I deem necessary when it comes to my wife’s safety. And the next man to test my resolve may not find himself so fortunate to escape with his life.”
“I am the luckiest of women to have such a husband as Lord Rosenthorne,” Celia said quietly. “And he is more the man because of the old marquess’s absence in his life.”
There was a moment of stunned silence among those gathered, then Lord Buckholt slapped the table with the palm of his hand.
“Hear, hear!” Ethan exclaimed, raising his own glass in agreement. “To the protection of our loved ones, regardless of the methods.”
As everyone else raised their glasses, with the exception of Lady Palmerton, Gabriel met Celia’s gaze across the vast expanse of table separating them and felt his chest swell with a curious emotion. It was near to bursting as awareness flooded his body until he almost couldn’t breathe.
The protection of our loved ones…
Loved ones. Celia washisloved one.
His.
She was not just his wife. Not just a possession. She was not just his marchioness. Nor was she only an anchor in this new world. No. She was so much more. She was his beloved. His moon and stars and the sun around which he rotated like a moth encircling a flame.
