“Becauseyouhave great capacity for love,” he said. “You’re a good soul—kind and loyal. Anyone who comes to know you won’t be able to help falling in love with you. In time, you’ll look back to tonight and smile at how Fate dealt you a hand more blessed than anything you might have wished for.”
“Do you really believe that?” Olivia asked. He paused, doubt flickering in his eyes, and she wrenched her hand free. “Or are you merely trying to convince me?”
“You must understand that this is the least painful option.”
“Least painful for whom?” Olivia said. “Youdon’t have to marry a great big beast of a man who does not speak!”
“For heaven’s sake, Olivia, I—”
“Montague, is there no other option?” Eleanor asked.
“Such as what?” he said. “To return to Rosecombe the subject of gossip, to be censured and ostracized from Society for the rest of her days?”
“We care nothing for reputation,” Eleanor says. “Surely that ought to be enough?”
“I thought we’d already discussed this at length,” he said. “It matters not what we think. Society will forever condemn Olivia for her birth. Her chances of securing a respectable match were slim at best. After tonight, they’re nonexistent unless she accepts this man. Assuming he bothers to attend me tomorrow.”
Olivia suppressed a cry.
“Montague, how dare—” Eleanor began, but he interrupted.
“I dare because one of us must face up to the truth. I like it no more than you, my love, but now’s not the time for emotion or regret. Now is the time for rational action to ensure that Olivia has the best possible chance of happiness.” He reached for Olivia’s hand, a plea in his eyes. “Believe me, sister, I wish it were not so.”
She tried to free her hand, but he tightened his grip.
“I will do what I can to ensure you’re treated properly.”
She shook her head. “Why did you have to do it?”
“Make him offer for you? Surely you understand—”
“No,” she said, her voice rising. “Why did you have to recognize me as your sister? I was happy before. My life was simple. I rose early, went to the school, taught the children, then came home, with no fearfor my reputation, or the need to make a respectable match. Why didn’t you leave me there in obscurity? Isn’t that what most lords do with the bastards in their families?”
“With this match you can live as you please,” he said. “You’ll have a title, wealth, respectability. You’ll have your own children to care for—servants, tenants, all to benefit from the love you have to give.”
“And what if he doesn’t permit me to live as I please?” she said.
“I’ll make sure you’re given every freedom in your marriage.”
She shook her head. “You cannot guarantee that—not when I become the property of another man.”
He squeezed her hand. “I can, and I will. I can stipulate it in the marriage contract. Tell me what you want, and I’ll ensure that it becomes not just your wish, but a legal obligation.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“For my beloved sister, yes.” He blinked, and a tear splashed onto his cheek. “Tonight, I failed you. What happened on the terrace was my fault for not protecting you as a brother ought. For that, I am deeply sorry.”
His voice wavered, and the tears stinging her eyes threatened to spill over. This man—this stern, strong man who elicited silence and respect the moment he stepped into a room, for whom loyal servants and tenants would do anything and from whom those who transgressed against him cowered in fear—she had never seen such emotion.
“I know I’ve been firm with you,” he said, “but it’s because I want to protect you from a world that is cruel. Perhaps I ought to have left you in the village, handed you a coin or two as an act of charity, as all men of my rank are expected to do. But I couldn’t. You’re my sister, Olivia, my flesh and blood, and I-I wanted to give you everything that would have been your due had you been Lady Olivia Whitcombe. And the title you will gain on marrying this man will ensure that nobody in Society will ever again treat you are being of no worth.”
Eleanor placed a hand on his arm. “Montague…”
“Forgive me,” he said. “Please say you forgive me. If you really don’t wish to marry this man, then I’ll think of something. I’ll not force you to enter into something unwillingly. I only want to present the options before you so that you can make an informed choice.”
“I…” Olivia paused, ready to plead her freedom. The path of her life stretched before her, forking into two. In one direction lay scandal, ruination, and misery—not only for her, but for those dearest to her. In the other lay uncertainty.
Perhaps every gamester found themselves faced with such a choice—certain ruination, or the chance of victory at the turn of a card.
