"Gabriel, don't dissemble. She knows I've been sharing your bed."
"How could she possibly…"
"Because she's no fool, and we're not as discrete as we believe we are."
Gabriel set down his glass and moved to where Clara sat, kneeling before her chair in a gesture that would have been romantic if it weren't so fraught. "What did she say to you?"
"She offered to help me find employment elsewhere if I leave quietly without causing trouble."
"And if you don't leave?"
"Then she'll make sure I never find respectable employment again."
"She threatened you?"
"She presented options. There's a difference, though admittedly a subtle one."
Gabriel's hands clenched. “I shall bring about her social downfall.”
"No, you won't. She's your aunt, and despite her methods, she genuinely believes she's helping you."
"Helping me by threatening the one person who's made me feel human again?"
"Helping you by trying to secure your future with an appropriate wife who can give you legitimate heirs and restore your place in society."
"I don't want an appropriate wife. I want…" He stopped, but his eyes said everything.
"You can't have what you want. We both know that."
"Why not? Why can't I have you?"
"Because I'm nobody, Gabriel. I'm a physician's daughter who's fallen into service, who arrived at your door in stolen boots, who has no dowry, no connections, nothing to offer except…"
"Everything," he interrupted. "You offer everything. Your intelligence, your strength, your refusal to be intimidated by my moods or my scar or my reputation."
"Those aren't the things that matter in your world."
"Then maybe I need to change worlds."
"You can't. You're the Duke of Ashbourne. You have responsibilities, duties, a legacy to maintain."
"I have a title I never wanted and a life that feels like a prison."
"A gilded prison is still better than actual poverty, which is what I face if your aunt follows through on her threats."
Gabriel stood abruptly, pacing to the fireplace. "I won't allow her to hurt you."
"You can't protect me from the reality of our situation. I'm leaving in three weeks. Perhaps it's better if I go sooner."
"Don't." He turned to face her, and the raw pain in his expression took her breath away. "Please don't. Not yet."
"Gabriel…"
"Three weeks. You promised three weeks."
"That was before your aunt made it clear that staying could ruin any chance I have at a future."
"I'll give you a reference. I'll make sure you're provided for."
