Page 69 of The Gentleman's Confession
She gasped and yanked her hand from his grip. “How dare you! How dare you injure my cousin.” She ignored the pain her strong emotions brought to her head and the black tugging at the corners of her vision as she waited to see remorse painted across Miles’s features.
But it wasn’t remorse so much as a form of regret on his face. Regret that she was angry. Regret that she had pushed him aside once more. Regret that she had put Lisette before him.
She turned away from him, hating what she saw. Hating herself. Hating him for being everything she wanted.
She had made her decision, but he would not respect it. “Leave me. Now.”
She knew when he left her side, not because of the sound of chair legs grating against the floor but because of the sense of loss. When she looked up, she was surprised to see Paul join Ian and Tom.
“The staff has already gotten wind,” Paul said grimly, closing the door for more privacy. “Word passes quickly when there is a crowd as large as the one we had outside today. By morning, it will be blown out of proportion and nothing short of a scandal.” He looked at each of them. “Did I miss something again?” He pointed to the corridor behind him. “Come to think of it, Miles looked like someone had died when I passed him just now.”
“Jemma didn’t take the news very well,” Ian muttered, folding his arms.
Paul blanched and looked at her. “You didn’t remember anything?”
Did he have to remind her? “No.”
“Miles didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Paul defended, his tone somber. “No one was more worried for your welfare.”
Paul did not have to convince her as though she were some misinformed judge. She already knew the truth, and it hurt worse than her head. She didn’t answer him. How could she? Ever since Grandmother had become sick, all her carefully plans had been trampled on. Why had Grandmother left her? Clearly, Jemma could not manage alone.
Tom tapped his leg. “Well, maybe Lisette will be glad to be rid of Miles. A man with his good demeanor and dashing looks has to be troublesome to have about the house.”
Ian smirked. “You’re right. What woman wants a perfect man?”
“Stop!” Jemma said much too sharply. “Lisette is bound to hear you.”
“Shouldn’t we be the ones to tell her?” Paul asked gently.
She sighed. “I haven’t the heart.” What was left of the organ was broken. She tasted her tears on her lips before she even realized she was crying. What had she done? Lisette would be crushed, and she had hurt Miles. She turned away again, shutting her eyes and wishing the men would just leave so she could sleep her pain into oblivion.
“We’ll take care of it,” Ian said quickly.
“He means, he will watch while we take care of it,” Tom said. “We won’t let Mother Hen’s brisk demeanor rattle her further.”
Ian’s muttering was covered by Paul next words. “There’s more.”
“Do I have to hear it?” Jemma asked, refusing to open her eyes.
“We might as well have it out so you can sleep on your decision.”
“Paul, when you speak like that, even I get nervous,” Tom said.
“It is not frightening, but it might not be comfortable. There is a chance Mr. Bentley will not overlook the scandal.”
“I won’t marry Miles,” Jemma said, turning to face them again. “I won’t do that to Lisette.”
Paul nodded. “No one will make you do anything, Jemma.”
“We will protect you the best we can,” Ian added.
Tom gave one of his winning grins. “Chin up, Vixen. I’ve always wanted to be in the middle of a scandal. You’re making Rebel history.”
“And on that note, we will take our leave.” Ian directed Tom and Paul through the door. He stopped just before shutting it, his usual intimidating stare completely absent and in its place one of compassion. “Try to get some sleep. By morning, we will have a plan in place.”
“Thank you, Ian.”
He nodded and left her alone.
