He replaced the rings in the safe, taking his time to be certain the strongbox was locked securely.
When he was finished, he turned to see Penny crouched on the floor, surrounded by scattered papers and correspondence. Papers she was never meant to see.
“Gabriel, what is all this?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“I can read.” Clutching the papers in both hands, Penny shook her head. “You’re planning to ruin my family.”
Penny hadn’t been meaning to snoop, but as she’d risen from the desk chair, she’d knocked the papers to the floor. When she crouched to retrieve them, she saw her own name. It was a betrothal contract.
She scanned through the first few pages, feeling entirely justified in doing so. This would be her marriage, too. Apparently, he’d made several drafts. Just like the rings, he’d prepared for every possibility. Why hadn’t he consulted her?
And then, at the bottom of the pile, she found an agreement that wasn’t drafted in her name. It bore Bradford’s name, and it wasn’t a betrothal contract.
It was a betrayal.
“You were never meant to see those,” he said.
“Oh, I can imagine I wasn’t,” she replied.
She certainly understood why Gabriel had kept these papers from her view. The reason was inscribed in black ink on crisp parchment, legible and stark, defying her to hope there could be any misunderstanding.
The truth was plain, and it was a dagger to her heart.
“This says you’ve purchased a loan from the bank. A loan taken against my family’s property.”
She lifted her head and found Gabriel staring back at her. His expression was inscrutable.
He didn’t even attempt to deny it. “Yes, I did.”
“That mortgage was drawn for the purpose of farmland improvements. It was meant to help tenants through the lean harvests, keep them from starving. Now you’re threatening to call in the debt unless my brother agrees to our marriage?”
“No, no. You’re misunderstanding.”
She rattled the contract at him. “It’s right here, in plain language.”
“I’m not threatening to call in the debt. I’m offering to forgive the debt entirely. In exchange for your dowry.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s supposed to sound better?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “It was meant as a last resort, to be used only if he wouldn’t give his consent. Call it insurance.”
“I call it insulting. Because that’s what it is. You planned to do this without my ever knowing? I’d blithely go about telling everyone how devoted we are to each other, and all the time my family would know the truth. That I was purchased.” She let the paper slip to the floor as she stood. “When you said you insisted on doing this ‘properly,’ I had no idea this is what you intended.”
“Don’t make so much of it. We both know how aristocrat marriages work. No matter which man you married, your dowry would be a legal transaction.”
“Yes, of course,” she said bitterly. “Because what man would marry me without financial inducement.”
“There’s no financial inducement on my part.” He gestured at the papers. “I’m not even coming out ahead. The amount of your brother’s loan is far greater than your dowry. I’d be losing money on you.”
The words hit her like pebbles winged by a cruel schoolboy.
He swore. “That came out worse than I intended.”
“I certainly hope so. This is a nightmare.” She retrieved the papers and ripped them down the center, shearing them in half. Then she took the halves of the sheets and slowly tore those into even smaller pieces. That still wasn’t enough. She kept up her grim, methodical shredding until the pieces became bits, and the bits became snowflakes.
“My solicitor has copies of those,” he said.
“I don’t care. It was satisfying anyhow.”
He came around the desk, closing the distance between them. “Your brother is never going to agree to our marriage unless some form of leverage is applied. Did you have a better idea?”
“Yes! Here is my wild idea. I will tell him that I love you with all my heart, and that I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. And if he says no, we’ll marry without his blessing.”
He took her by the shoulders. “Think about what you’re suggesting. Your family would shun you. Everyone will say you’ve been ruined.”
“I don’t care what anyone says.”
“Well, I care. I care what people say about you. What they say about us, our children. Penny, I’m telling you—”
“Telling me? I thought a proposal involved asking me. I fell in love with you partly because you respected my choices, on everything from my dinner to my engagement ring. Suddenly, you’ve become an autocrat.”
He sighed wearily. “I’m trying to protect you. I’ll do whatever is required to keep you from becoming a scandal, even if that means taking matters into my own hands.”
“What does that mean?”
“If your brother knows how we’ve spent the past few weeks, I’m sure he’d agree we must wed.”
Oh, Lord. Her stomach knotted. “You would tell him I’m ruined.”
His expression was hard.
“Soiled in the eyes of society,” she went on. “Worthless. That he has no choice but to bless the match, because how could anyone else ever want me.”
“You know I don’t see you that way.”
“But you are willing to let my family see me that way, and then use that to your advantage. After everything you know of my past, I can’t believe you would stand here and even suggest such a thing.” She wrapped her arms about the hollowness in her chest and hugged tight. “Everyone warned me not to trust you. All my friends. I refused to listen.”
“You knew my reputation from the first. I never claimed to be anything else.”
“I suppose you didn’t. I was naïve enough to fall in love with you anyway.”
“Maybe you didn’t fall in love with me,” he snapped. “Maybe you fell in love with a man who doesn’t exist.”
“Maybe you don’t truly love me at all.”
She waited for him to contradict the statement. Assure her that yes, he loved her beyond anything. Instead, he released her and passed a hand over his face. “You’re emotional. Fatigued. You should go home and rest.”
“I’m going home, but not to rest. I’m going to pack my things. You’re right, perhaps it’s time I reached out to my family. I can leave with Bradford tonight.”
“Penny, wait.”
“No,” she said. “I’ve waited long enough. I’ve lost ten years of my life to secrets and shame, and I refuse to surrender a single day more. Not even for you.”
“MRS. ROBBINS! MRS. ROBBINS!”
Delilah—the bird who couldn’t learn “I love you” after a thousand repetitions of the phrase—had learned