Claire’s brief moment of peace was shattered by the sound of a roar coming from the other side of the door.

“No?”

She recognized that voice. In fact, she knew it well. That was Davenport—her brother-in-law and the man her sister had hoped she would marry.

Before she married him herself, of course. The Clevelands always did have a knack for doing things the wrong way, and of making life more complicated than it need be. Perhaps they had all inherited their father’s propensity for causing trouble. After all, he was the one who had initially linked their name with scandal with his widespread philandering and his illegitimate children.

Perhaps scandal ran in their blood. That was the best explanation she could come up with for her behavior tonight. But at least her scandal had gone unnoticed—or at least she presumed it had.

Surely she would have heard by now if anyone had seen her antics. If nothing else, she would have noticed whispers and stares, would she not?

Not if your attention was ensnared by your devilish rake, that helpful voice pointed out.

She heard another voice now outside the door yet no one had tried to enter. What was going on out there? Rising reluctantly from her seat, she headed toward the door to see what the commotion was about.

Her steps faltered when she heard her name mentioned and she stopped altogether when she recognized the second voice.

Galwin.

Why were Galwin and Davenport discussing her and in such heated voices? But before she could even finish forming the question in her mind, she knew the answer.

As if to confirm the point, she heard Davenport’s voice, loud and clear and filled with disbelief. “Are you saying you are in love with Claire?”

She nearly laughed aloud at the thought. But she found she could not laugh because her breath had caught in her throat as she waited for his answer. She took a hurried step toward the door until she was pressed against it, but even that close, his voice was muffled on the other side.

She was being ridiculous. Of course he did not love her. Clearly Davenport had heard a rumor and had gotten the wrong idea.

Sure enough, when she finally caught some of Galwin’s speech it was exactly what she would expect. “Did you not imply earlier that you would force me to propose if the rumors were true?”

She steadied herself against the door, pressing her forehead to the cold wood as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Somehow being proven right did not feel as satisfying as one might hope.

This was exactly what she’d feared—what they’d feared. That they would be caught and forced to marry.

And it was all her fault.

Guilt warred with other emotions she hesitated to acknowledge, let alone name. For if she did she would have to face the fact that perhaps she had let Anne’s romantic notions affect her, after all. That maybe, despite her words to the contrary, she had allowed herself to believe that perhaps there was such a thing as love and that maybe she stood a chance to find it. Oh, she still knew it was a thing of fairytales but between watching Anne and Davenport, and listening to Galwin’s words of belief…

Oh all right, and that kiss. That kiss had opened her eyes to just how overwhelming and…well, just how convincing those natural urges could be.

But it was just natural urges, she reminded herself. And what Anne had found was a stroke of luck, not the type of thing she’d ever allowed herself to wish for, let alone expect.

Leaning against the door, she tucked those hopes away again, back into the deep dark corners of her heart where they belonged.

Galwin’s voice came through the door, noble and resigned. “I will ask Claire to marry me.”

She winced. It was so obvious what this argument was about. Despite his noble words earlier about marrying her if they were caught, Galwin was being strong-armed into proposing to her.

More snippets of the conversation filtered through and she hardened herself against the pain of humiliation and shame…and guilt. None of these emotions were terribly new—she’d spent a lifetime living with her father’s shame, of feeling the guilt and responsibility of being the family’s last great hope. It was not hard to push the emotions aside so that when Galwin entered she was composed and seated, even managing a look of mild surprise at his sudden entrance.

“Galwin, what are you doing here?” All right, perhaps that was a bit much, but Galwin seemed too focused on his own thoughts to critique her performance.

He cleared his throat and came to stand before her. The feeling that she was an actress on stage grew out of proportion and she half expected to hear the sound of applause as she gestured for him to take a seat across from her, as though they were meeting over tea and not in a darkened study after having a passionate interlude just hours before.

“Claire,” he started, his low voice unusually serious. “There is a matter of great importance that I wish to discuss.”

She just barely held back her sigh. Yes, yes. We have been caught. My rash actions have ruined us both. One night of adventure and I have destroyed—

He cleared his throat. “I have…feelings for you.”

She blinked at him. “Pardon me?”

He couldn’t be serious. But he looked serious. Grim, almost. He also looked… determined.

Oh dear.

“I know this is sudden, but as I understand it, sometimes these things happen quickly and—”

“These things?” she echoed. Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears, but really—this was not at all expected.

He cleared his throat again, clearly nervous about what he was about to say.

And all at once she didn’t want to hear it. She knew what he would say but she also knew it would be a lie. He did not love her—he did not even truly care about her. But the fact that he would say so, that he would lie just to soften the blow of this new turn of events…

Her throat closed up with unshed emotions and she found she couldn’t interrupt quickly enough.

“Claire, I think I’m falling in—”

“This is not necessary, Galwin.” Her voice returned just in time. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as the unspoken word hovered in the room between them. Love. The word had always made her uncomfortable, and now, like this, after they’d kissed so passionately and danced so beautifully, and conversed so comfortably…

She stood up quickly, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she walked past him toward the window. She’d prefer to stare out into the dark night than to see his face right now. She knew very well that he was lying, she did not need to see it written plainly across his face. His lies might come from the best of intentions, perhaps, but that somehow made it even worse.

So much worse.

His silence seemed to echo in the quiet room. Or maybe it was the sound of her heart that made the silence seem so unbearable.

“Pardon me?” Now it was his turn to act like a parrot, it seemed. He echoed her words with the same surprised tone.

She supposed it wasn’t every day that he attempted to declare his love for a woman, and she had to assume that his previous attempts had been far more welcome. She was quite certain that most women would be much more receptive to his attentions. After all, this was a womanizing rake of the highest order. Even she had fallen victim to those dark, desirous gazes and his warm, tempting kisses, and she didn’t even like the man.

No, that wasn’t quite true. She hadn’t liked the man. But that was before he’d come to her aid and tried to save her silly hide. That was before he’d listened to her as though she were an equal and not some addle-brained female whose only function was to look pretty on his arm.

She spun back around, clasping her hands in front of her and straightening her spine. Her posture had never been better. Her mother would have been so pleased.

Oh yes, this was just what Mama would have wanted for her favorite child. Her perfect little Claire had truly done her proud tonight.

She tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. “I understand what is happening here.”

He walked over to stand before her. The glow from the moonlight gave his handsome features an ethereal glow. He looked like some sort of angel or perhaps a knight from a fairytale, here to save her honor.

He furrowed his brow as he studied her. “What exactly is it that you understand?”

Her heart leaped out toward him at his kindness. How many men would do this for her? How many would try to shelter her from the harsh reality of their situation? A situation that she had gotten them into with her rash actions. How many men would lie about being in love just to make the proposition of a forced marriage more palatable?

Her smile was very nearly genuine when she reached out to take his hands in her own. “I know what you are here to do.”

He arched his brows. “You do?”

She nodded. “You must marry me, and for that I am so sorry.” Her voice hitched a bit on the last word and she pressed her lips together until she was composed enough to continue.

Galwin, for his part, was watching her intently and with an odd expression, as though she’d taken to speaking in tongues.

She squeezed his hands in hers, nearly overcome with a tender affection for this surprisingly sweet man. How had she never realized how kind he was? All this time she had blamed him for Jed’s actions, but Galwin had been right. Jed was a grown man, and perhaps he did deserve credit for sticking by Jed’s side. Right now, she was inclined to believe that he’d been a good friend to Jed. Wasn’t he even now proving to be a gentleman and a true friend?

“You are sorry,” he repeated slowly, as if trying them out on his tongue.

Her lips curved up in amusement despite the fact that this situation was hardly comical. “Are you going to continue to repeat what I say?”

He shook his head as if waking from a deep sleep. “My apologies, it is just that—” He cleared his throat in what she was starting to recognize as a nervous gesture. “It is just that this is not how I expected the conversation to go.”

Her smile grew. “And how did you predict this would unfold?” She arched one brow. “Did you think I would swoon at your feigned love? Or perhaps you thought I would not see this for what it is.”

He smiled in return and the smile made her heart speed up. “I think you misunderstand—”

Now she did laugh. Was he still hoping to fool her into believing this was a love match? “How so? Were you or were you not confronted by my brother-in-law just now?”

He opened his mouth but stopped short and she knew that she had caught him by surprise. He glanced toward the door with a grimace. “You heard all that?”

“Not all of that,” she said. “But enough.”

He studied her again, his expression unreadable as he seemed to seek out some answer in her eyes. “You do not know the whole story, Claire. I am not as selfless as you might believe. There is more going on here and I need you to know—”

“What don’t I know?” Even as she asked the question, her mind raced to find the answer. Perhaps there was more to it. Maybe she was thinking too highly of him to believe that he would leap into matrimony merely to save her.

She studied him the way he had done to her and she saw his honesty there. A hint of guilt, even, as though he had a secret.

Perhaps there was more going on here. But what could he have to gain?

And then it clicked. The answer came to her so simply she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. “My dowry.”

She turned her gaze up to meet his and saw his eyes widen in surprise.

She had guessed right, she was sure of it. It all made sense. He was a second son, and while she was certain he had a decent income, she also knew that he frequented the same sort of gaming establishments that Jed had.

Of course. He had fallen on hard times just like her brother. And she was the golden goose who had just been handed to him.

She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze any longer. There was no need to be so maudlin about it. It wasn’t as though he had forced himself on her.

She was still the one who had gotten them into this mess, and she could hardly blame him for trying to make the most out of a bad circumstance.

With that thought, she forced a smile she did not feel. “It is quite all right.”

He frowned. “It is?”

“Of course. You need money and I require a husband to salvage my reputation.”

He frowned, pulling his lips together into a thin line, but he did not deny it. That in itself was all the answer she needed. She found herself blinking rapidly as she tried to steady her breathing.

Too much had happened too quickly. She was having a hard time adjusting, that was all. But knowing that didn’t help ease the tightness in her chest.

It was absurd, really. Why should she be so emotional? She had spent a lifetime preparing to wed for money and title. Now here she was marrying for money—but she was the one with the fortune.

It was humorous. She should be laughing, really.

“Claire, are you all right?”

His low, surprisingly familiar voice pulled her out of her reverie. She forced another smile, this time not nearly as genuine. “Yes, of course.”

And she would be, she was sure of it. She had to be. This was for the best. He would get the money he so clearly needed, she would have her reputation intact and hopefully the family that she so desperately craved.

It wasn’t as though she’d ever expected a love match and Galwin was surely a better option than Swattle or any of the other elderly men she’d been dangerously close to marrying before.

The prospect of marrying those decrepit old men had filled her with disgust, but Galwin…

She looked up at him now, with his high-cut cheekbones and his strong jaw. There was nothing unappealing about this man physically.

Oh, who was she fooling? He was attractive to the extreme. Even now she was hard-pressed to resist moving closer. Some primal instinct made her feel needy around him. She wanted to press her body against his and find his lips once more.

If only he would kiss her again like he had back in that alley, maybe then she could forget the fact that he was a rake. Maybe she could drown out the fear and heartache that made her insides tremble. For this was what she’d always feared more than any repulsive husband in her bed or any lecherous old man.

She had feared this—marrying a man who tempted her. A man who made her feel things. A man who would take what he needed from her before discarding her for a younger woman, or a more exciting woman. A man who would forget all about her and his family.

A man exactly like her father.

For her father too had been handsome and dashing, just like Galwin. Her mother had told her stories about how she had fallen head over heels for the gallant gentleman with the large fortune. She’d been the daughter of an earl and could have had her pick of titles.

But she’d opted to marry the wealthy landowner out of love. And look what that had gotten her? If her father had ever loved her mother in return, that love had faded long before Claire was old enough to see it. All she’d seen was her mother’s sadness, her cold, detached reserve when confronted with the living proof of his infidelities.

Sweet, romantic Anne had always pitied Claire for her lot in life—the sacrificial lamb, that was what Anne had always called her. Anne had always been a romantic sort, dreaming of a day when she might marry for love. But that was exactly what Claire had wished to avoid.

And you are avoiding it, she reminded herself now. She was not in love with Galwin. And though there might be a temptation to think well of him, what with his kindness and his dashing looks, she could fortify herself against it.

Knowledge was power, that was another of her mother’s favorite sayings. Of course, her mother had typically been referring to a knowledge of the peerage and their gossip. But the saying still applied to this situation.

She knew that he was a charmer—all of the ton knew that to be true. Just like she knew that he was handsome and thoughtful and his closeness made her pulse race.

Knowing all this, she could go into this marriage with her eyes open.

This thought helped calm her so that when she spoke again, it sounded far more sincere. “I am quite all right,” she said in the face of Galwin’s searching stare. The genuine concern in his gaze made her heart ache. He was already testing her resolve, it seemed.

“We should talk about this,” he said. “There is much to discuss. I think perhaps you have—”

A knock at the door cut into his speech and reminded them both that Davenport was on the other side. If they were too quiet for much longer, she had no doubt he would come charging in here with fists raised, ready to protect her honor.

“We should talk,” she said in her calmest, most demure tone. “And we shall. But perhaps this evening is not the appropriate time.”

His expression turned quizzical but she didn’t miss the flash of amusement in his eyes at her expense. “No, perhaps not.”

She pursed her lips at the teasing in his voice. He was mocking her proper tones and her docile demeanor again. But she did not want to laugh, she didn’t even want to smile. Their lives were effectively ruined and it was all her fault. How could he be laughing at a time like this?

“Very well then,” she said, making a move toward the door to tell Davenport what had been decided, as if he didn’t already know.

But Galwin stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm. “Claire, wait.”

She spun around to face him. “What is it? We should—”

He pulled her against him and kissed her hard. The kiss made her forget what she’d been about to say or do. It made her forget where she was and what her name was, for that matter.

The kiss was brutal in its intensity. It ran roughshod over her intentions to not feel anything for this man. She couldn’t help but feel. All she could do was feel. Her body exploded with sensations as his lips moved over hers with a possessive sweep of his tongue. He laid claim to her mouth as though sealing the agreement.

She was his now, his lips seemed to say.

Her response was instant and irrational. Her lips meeting his, her mouth welcoming him like he was a missing piece of her.

Yes, her lips said in return, she was his in body and in soul.

And she liked it far, far too much.