A Gentleman Never Tells Read Online Free PDF Page A

nothing to do with what makes a good marriage.”
    No such thing as love? Did she believe that?
    Maybe, yesterday. Maybe, before she saw the passion between Rosabelle and Staunton. Maybe, before she kissed Lord Brentwood and felt those wonderful stirrings of desire down in her soul.
    Gabrielle looked toward Viscount Brentwood again. He was tall and lithe for such a wide-shouldered man, walking with far more ease than she would have anticipated considering what had happened to him. She expected him to be seething with uncontrolled anger like her father and Lord Austerhill, but when his gaze locked onto hers, all she sensed from him was a deep burning to know why.
    A shiver of awareness slithered through her. He seemed to consume her with his dark eyes as he drew nearer. The way he looked at her played havoc with her breathing. She felt flushed and out of breath, as if she’d been the one running and in a struggle. A seeping warmth settled low in her stomach, an unwelcome warmth. That feeling had caused enough trouble already, and she wouldn’t give in to its comfort again.
    The closer he came to them, the faster her heart beat, and not from fear of reprisal, but from very raw, very real attraction. There was a jagged red scratch on his cheek where his face had been shoved against the ground. His black greatcoat fell open and hung off one shoulder. His top hat was missing, and his thick, light brown hair was mussed and fell carelessly across his forehead. Despite all the recriminations she’d heard from her father and Lord Austerhill, she wanted once again to wrap her arms around Lord Brentwood’s strong, broad chest and feel his full, sensual lips on hers.
    She couldn’t comprehend the reason she was so affected by him.
    Lord Brentwood and the servant stopped in front of Gabrielle and her father. She was supposed to be making final preparations for her wedding next week and, instead, she was staring into the intense dark brown eyes of a stranger that were asking questions she knew she couldn’t answer.
    That old eagerness to please stirred inside her. She wanted to take a step toward him, plead with him to forgive her, but something in the quiet way he looked at her made her remain where she was.
    In a voice much less emotional than she was feeling, she said, “My lord, I assured my father this was not your fault.”
    A brief moment of surprise flashed in his eyes before they turned dark and stormy again. She could see that he wrestled with something deep inside. Was it loathing for her, or for her father and the footmen who tackled him?
    “I don’t need you taking up for me, Lady Gabrielle.”
    She threw a cautious glance toward her father, surprised he was letting her talk to the viscount. “But I must,” she protested. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
    His gaze stayed on her face, as if he was taking careful note of her every feature. “Really?” he asked quietly. “None of it?”
    Stunned by what he asked, Gabrielle sucked in a hasty breath. He was reminding her of their passion. Her cheeks heated. He was seducing her right in front of her father, and she was powerless to stop him.
    “Please don’t,” she managed to whisper softly so only he could hear, before saying in a stronger voice, “You must know I didn’t want this to happen.”
    His eyes turned quizzical. “I don’t know that.”
    “How could you not?”
    “Because I don’t know what games you are playing, Lady Gabrielle, and I don’t know why you chose to involve me in them.”
    “There is no game. You are just an innocent victim.”
    The viscount drew back suddenly as if she had struck him below the belt. “I am no one’s victim, my lady.”
    “No, of course, you’re right. I only meant I’m sorry you were treated like a common criminal just now.”
    “Nevertheless, I willingly made the bed, and I will lie in it.”
    Her stomach clenched at the implication of his words. “I’m not sure what you mean by that,” she