She gaped at him. Had the earl gone completely and utterly mad?
“I have already given you my answer,” she said more firmly, again tugging on her hand to no avail.
“There is only one answer, Lady Rhiannon,” he told her, his voice low and seething. “The answer is that you will marry me. If you refuse, I will have no choice but to make my knowledge of your lack of honor fodder for common gossip.”
Had she thought Reginald meek and mild-mannered? If so, she had been as wrong about him as she had been about Richford. The Earl of Carnis was furious that she had forsaken him for another man. That much, she could see.
She reeled. “Are you saying that if I don’t marry you, you will ruin me?”
“My dear, you have ruined yourself. I am the one who will save you. But only with you as my wife. If you disagree, my sole recourse is to make certain that you are no longer welcome inpolite society. Before I am finished, not even your brother will be allowed to know you.”
“Whitby would never disavow me,” she protested, horrified by the very notion.
“Wouldn’t he? I beg to differ. He is marrying a divorced woman. The scandal is already tremendous. Only think of how terrible it shall be for him and his new bride when word spreads that his sister has whored herself for his friend.” Reginald paused. “Whitby has no inkling any of this has occurred, has he? You were beneath his nose for the entirety of that filthy house party, and he never knew it. How guilty he will feel. But naturally, he shall have to put his wife first. Perhaps he might send you to the Continent. Or banish you to the country. Certainly, he can never know you again.”
Her mind could scarcely grapple with the reality before her. Boring, kind, handsome Reginald was blackmailing her into marrying him. Using the threat of her own ruin and banishment to force her into becoming his wife. Her urgent, instant reaction was to slap him and tell him no.
But the reality of everything his warning entailed terrified her. She knew that her brother would do everything in his power to keep her from being banished from polite society. In the end, however, the choice wouldn’t be his. And he was newly content, having won Lady Miranda’s hand and love. Rhiannon had no wish to jeopardize their future or their happiness. To say nothing of what would happen if Rhys were to discover that Richford had taken her virginity.
No, she couldn’t do that to Rhys. Learning that she had given herself to Richford would destroy him.
She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. “Very well, Lord Carnis. I will marry you if that is what you require.”
He gave her a cunning smile as he lifted her hand to his lips. “That is indeed what I require. It is, at the very least, what is owed to me. We will marry as soon as possible, given that I don’t wish for there to be any question should there be issue from our union. I will inform your brother of the happy news about our imminent wedding.”
“Please do,” she bit out. “I think I shall remain here for a few minutes more and take in the air if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” He rose and bowed before her.
Rhiannon had scarcely waited until his footfalls faded into the distance before she sank to her knees and retched into a rosebush.
As the carriageswayed through the crush of vehicles outside the Duke of Riverdale’s town house, Rhiannon pressed a hand over her churning stomach. The starting, then stopping, and then beginning again was making the threat of casting up the meager toast and tea she had consumed earlier that afternoon more acute by the moment.
“You’re rather pale this evening,” Mater observed shrewdly, peering at her through the low light of the carriage lamps.
“I wish we would arrive at the ball,” she said. “I grow weary of being trapped within the confines of this carriage.”
“As do I,” Rhys ventured, tugging at his necktie and scowling. “I loathe balls. I wouldn’t even be attending if it weren’t Riverdale hosting.”
“It is most unexpected, His Grace’s sudden announcement concerning his duchess,” Mater added, a note of disapproval in her voice. “What do you make of such an unusual development, Whitby?”
“I was equally surprised to learn Riverdale was secretly married,” Rhys said mildly.
Rhiannon squirmed on the Moroccan leather squabs, not liking the subject veering dangerously close to her brother’s circle of friends. It was painful enough that she must attend Riverdale’s ball. At least she didn’t need to fear that Aubrey would be in attendance. When she had made indirect inquiries of her brother related to the ball, she had learned that Aubrey was apparently ensconced in the countryside at Villiers House.
Her relief at knowing she wouldn’t have to face him had been palpable. And not just because she wasn’t certain how her broken heart and eviscerated pride would weather such a storm. But for another reason as well.
For the last few days, she had begun feeling unwell at unusual times, sometimes even retching. At first, she had told herself the reason was her upset over Carnis forcing her into an unwanted marriage. But now, she wasn’t so certain.
It added to her ever-growing suspicion.
Every day, she waited for her courses to arrive.
And each day came and went without them.
Rhiannon was unfailingly punctual in such matters, and she was late. With each new day, a pressing fear crept over her. Richford had been careful. He had not spent his seed inside her. At least, not entirely. Or so she had thought.
What if he hadn’t been careful enough? What if she was carrying his child? How could she tell her brother? And even worse, how could she marry Carnis if she was indeed carrying Aubrey’s babe?
