“Indisposed?”Tristan echoed, his tone dangerously calm, eyes locked onto the other man’s defeated gaze.
Brooks’ face twisted in anguish as Tristan stared back at him.
“I have nothing left with which to settle my account.”
Tristan peered, regarding the broken man coldly.“That is hardly my concern.You made your wager, and I won it fairly.”
“Please, my lord,” Brooks begged, wringing his hands.“I will lose everything if I do not find some way to repay you.My estate, my good name...”His voice dropped to a whisper.“My daughter’s future.”
At this, Tristan raised an eyebrow.He despised men who gambled away their family’s security.“You should have thought of that before you bet your last farthing,” he said sharply.
Brooks flushed.“You mistake me, sir.I only meant...perhaps we could come to some other arrangement.”He met Tristan’s gaze steadily.“I will offer you my daughter Emmeline’s hand in marriage, if you will forgive my debt completely.”
Tristan stiffened in shock.The man would truly stoop so low as to barter his own child?His first instinct was refusal.Taking a bride was the furthest thing from his mind.
Yet as he studied Brooks’ earnest expression, he felt a twinge of temptation.The girl was a great beauty...Besides, if he refused, she would be ruined by no fault of her own.Word would quickly spread of her father’s ill-advised offer and Tristan’s refusal.No man of quality would have the girl if he did not accept her.
No.He hardened his heart.Her future could not be his concern.“I appreciate your offer,” he drawled.“But I must decline.Your daughter’s hand is too high a price.”
Brooks’ face fell, but Tristan turned away.He was not without honor, but his honor had bounds.He would not give up his freedom to save a chit he hardly knew.
“Do reconsider.Emmeline,” Brooks said, her name falling from his lips like a sacred offering.“My daughter’s hand in marriage to cover my losses is far more valuable than coin.”
A collective intake of breath filled the room, the scandalous suggestion hanging heavily in the air.Tristan’s outward demeanor remained composed, but within, a tempest raged.To bind a woman to matrimony as a pawn in a game of chance was repugnant to him, and yet...
His thoughts careened toward Emmeline, her image conjuring a sensation he struggled to dismiss—a fluttering in his chest, an unwelcome stirring of protective instinct.She was innocence personified, her laughter a melody that had unwittingly ensnared his senses upon their first meeting.
“Mr.Brooks,” Tristan began, his voice betraying none of the turmoil within.“You speak of bartering your own flesh and blood as if she were livestock.‘Tis a most grievous sin.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Brooks shot back, his eyes pleading.“You are a man of honor, Tristan.I trust you above any other to care for her.”
An aversion to commitment warred with the sudden, inexplicable urge to shield Emmeline from the indignities of the world.Tristan knew the weight such a decision carried, the delicate balance between reputation and desire, duty and freedom.
“Your trust...it is misplaced,” he murmured, though doubt crept through his resolve.Could he truly stand by and watch Emmeline be tossed to the wolves of society, her fate sealed by her father’s recklessness?
“Please,” Brooks implored, his hands clasped before him in a rare display of humility.“For Emmeline’s sake, if not for my own.”
Tristan’s jaw tightened.For Emmeline’s sake, indeed.Was it not his duty as a gentleman to protect the innocent?Perhaps this was his chance to save her from a life less kind.What would become of her if Tristan maintained his refusal?Would Brooks sell her to the highest bidder?Would she be forced onto the streets along with her destitute father?
He imagined such a fate befalling her, and his throat tightened.He’d met Miss Emmeline.Danced with her.She did not deserve the hell her father was bringing down on her.Still… Tristan hardened his heart.“The answer remains no.”
Tristan’s refusal only seemed to make Brooks more desperate.“I beg you, sir,” he implored, leaning forward over the table.“At least consider it.I am offering you my most precious possession.”
Despite himself, Tristan felt a flicker of temptation once more.Brooks was right—a gentle-born bride was no small prize.And yet...
“You ask too much,” he said firmly.Though his voice was steady, his mind was in turmoil.Could he truly bind an innocent girl to him forever on a whim of cards?“I am not in the market for a wife.”
“Very well, I am certain there is a man present who would be happy to purchase a well-breed virgin bride.”Brooks stood and clasped his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white.“Who here would like to bid?—.”
Tristan stood, his gaze burning into Brooks’.The man was truly despicable.“I will take your daughter’s hand.”Ignoring Brooks’ gasp of relief, he continued.“But know this, Brooks—I accept not for the thrill of victory nor for any dowry.I accept to ensure your daughter’s future remains untarnished by the stain of your...indiscretion.”
“Understood.”Brooks nodded sharply, relief flooding his features, even as Tristan’s soul buckled under the gravity of his choice.
“Then we have an agreement,” Tristan spoke, his voice betraying none of the tumult that raged within him.His gaze was unwavering as he fixed Brooks with a stare that commanded attention.“Emmeline shall become my wife, but I have conditions.”
Brooks, still reeling from the reprieve that had been so unexpectedly granted, nodded eagerly.“Anything,” he promised, words tumbling out in his desperation.
“Firstly,” Tristan began, the words rolling off his tongue with the precision of a well-played strategy, “the arrangement shall remain clandestine until I deem it appropriate to announce our union.”
