Chapter Twenty-Two
Gabriel Ashford, Marquess of Hawthorne, stared at the canopy of his bed as the first hints of dawn crept through the curtains like unwelcome intruders.
Sleep had eluded him entirely, a fickle mistress who had abandoned him to the ceaseless whirl of his thoughts.
Peregrine—her name alone conjured a storm within him—the curve of her smile, the fire in her eyes, the way she had dismantled his defenses with nothing more than wit and unyielding spirit.
And now, this meeting with her brothers, a gauntlet he must run to claim her.
If only the ghosts of his past would cease their haunting long enough for him to envision a future.
He arrived at the Devon estate that morning, and the rare sunlight did little to flatter his appearance.
His valet had done his best, but no amount of starch or polish could conceal the shadows beneath his eyes or the pallor of his skin.
He felt as though he had been dragged through a hedge backward—twice.
Edwin, Earl of Devon, was already seated in the study when Gabriel entered, his expression a mask of stern propriety.
Henley stood by the window, nursing a cup of coffee that steamed like his barely contained impatience.
The room smelled of leather-bound books and the faint tang of ink, a sanctuary of masculine order amid the chaos of their family’s unraveling.
“Good God, Hawthorne,” Edwin said, his gaze raking over Gabriel with undisguised disdain. “You look as though you’ve spent the night wrestling with the devil himself. Did you even attempt sleep, or were you too busy plotting further scandals?”
Gabriel managed a wry smile, sinking into the armchair opposite with feigned nonchalance. “Ah, but the devil and I are old acquaintances, Devon. We merely shared a brandy and reminisced. Far more entertaining than slumber, I assure you.”
Henley snorted, setting down his cup and taking his seat at the desk, which served as an impromptu council table.
“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we?
We’re here to untangle this infernal knot, not exchange barbs.
” He leaned forward, his eyes steady on Gabriel.
“It began, as these things often do, with my sister’s madcap scheme at the start of the season.
Peregrine declared she would snare a rake for a husband—purely to spite the ton’s expectations, of course.
I, being of sound mind, told her the plot was foolish at best.”
At this, Edwin gave a huff.
Henley eyed him and continued. “Not knowing exactly how to dissuade her, I confided in Hawthorne, who also worked to persuade her against such an idea.”
“Persuade her in a different way, it would seem,” Edwin retorted.
Gabriel chuckled, a low, genuine sound that surprised even him.
The memory of that initial encounter flooded back—the ballroom alive with whispers, Peregrine’s bold gaze locking on to his like a challenge.
“Ah, I can assure you, that was the last thing on my mind. Or hers. I can honestly vouch that she was plotting possible murder after our first few conversations.” Hawthorne looked to Edwin, and upon noticing his confused expression…
“I’m not an idiot, Edwin. I know that men such as we…
” He leveled a strong look at his friend, who had the self-awareness to look slightly abashed, and continued.
“We are not the caliber of suitor for such lady such as your sister. That was my intention, to communicate that fact. But your sister was not inclined to take my advice, or that of your brother, and found a willing participant in her plan.”
“This story keeps getting worse.” Edwin sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“Ramsford.” Henley spat the name. “Pere encouraged him, and that was all it took.”
Hawthorne ground his teeth just thinking of Ramsford but continued the story.
“A vile piece of work, with a bet at White’s that he’d marry her, fortune and all, before the end of the season.
I stepped in, partly to thwart him, partly because …
well, she intrigued me. And it evolved into something far more real.
It was slow, and I didn’t realize what was happening till I was on the other side of it. ”
Edwin nodded once, waiting.
Hawthorne continued on, his voice softening as he met their gazes.
“Friendship came first. Conversations that cut through the artifice of society. She saw beyond the rake’s facade, challenged me to be more than my reputation.
She challenged my wit, threatened me with her small fists, and humbled me with her honesty.
I fell. Irrevocably. It was in the small moments.
Her laughter at my jests. The way she defended those she loved, her unapologetic spirit.
By the time we reached the theater, and she thwarted a rather persistent old acquaintance… ” He winced as he considered his past.
Edwin interrupted with a sharp intake of breath. “The theater. Where the whispers began in earnest. You two were seen in far too intimate a tête-à-tête, forcing this charade into something perilously close to reality—or so Henley said.”
“Precisely,” Gabriel agreed, nodding. “The ton’s gossip mill ground us closer together, but it was no hardship. If anything, it revealed what I already suspected. That I loved her. Deeply, Allendale. Devon. She is the light to my shadows.”
Henley rubbed his temples, a gesture of weary resignation. “And amid all this, there’s the matter of Mother and Lord Carver. You explained the history to me, but Edwin needs to hear it from you. Out with it. What are the facts?”
Gabriel’s expression darkened, the weight of old secrets pressing upon him.
He had carried this burden alone for years, but now, with Peregrine’s future entwined with his, transparency was his only weapon.
“Very well. But understand—this is not spoken lightly. My parents’ marriage was a facade long before it shattered publicly.
Lord Carver … he was the catalyst. An affair with my mother that spanned years, culminating in scandal.
But there’s more—a child. A daughter, born out of wedlock.
My half sister. I was away at Eton. I didn’t know until later. She’s around seven years my junior.”
The room fell silent, the air thick with shock. Edwin’s face paled, his fists clenching on the armrests.
Henley leaned back, eyes wide. “A by-blow? Good Lord.”
Gabriel nodded grimly. “She was spirited away, raised by distant cousins as the legitimate daughter of a baron—Lady Eliza Montford, if you must know. Titled, educated, but with origins that could unravel everything if unearthed. And now, against my express wishes, she’s coming to London for her debut season.
If the ton digs—and they always do—the scandal will resurface.
Carver is a charlatan, nearly destitute, preying on vulnerable widows like your mother for her fortune and influence.
She fears scandal above all else; she must be ignorant of his past, or she’d never associate with him.
That’s why I’m telling you now—so we can protect her, and so I can warn Peregrine myself.
Her reputation could be tainted by association if this erupts. ”
Edwin’s jaw tightened, a storm brewing in his eyes. “Devastating indeed. Carver’s ruinous history … it’s a poison. And you’ve known this all along?”
“I have,” Gabriel admitted. “But it changes nothing about my intentions toward Peregrine. My family’s history is not my destiny unless I allow it. With her, I see a different path—one of redemption, of building something true. I love her, gentlemen. I want her in my future, scandals be damned.”
A long pause followed, the ticking of the mantel clock the only sound.
Edwin finally exhaled, his reluctance evident but softening at the edges.
“Damn you, Hawthorne, for making this look so sordid from the outset. The whispers, the theater—it’s as if you courted scandal deliberately.
” He shook his head. “But … I see your sincerity. And Peregrine’s opinion is the same?
She wishes to take on…” He waved his hands, gesturing to the whole person of Hawthorne.
“I’d like the opportunity to ask her. But I’m confident, mostly, that we are in agreement on this.” Hawthorne spoke deliberately.
“Very well. You have my blessing—grudgingly. You may ask her, but if she rejects you…”
“She won’t.” Henley sighed. “But that is for you to ask and discover for yourself.” Henley nodded to his friend, then to his brother.
Henley reached across the desk, clasping Edwin’s hand in a firm grip.
“Then we’re in accord, brother. No more rifts between us.
We’ve let pride divide us long enough; let’s stand united for the family. ”
Edwin nodded, a rare vulnerability flickering in his gaze. “Agreed. Redemption starts here.”
Gabriel felt a knot loosen in his chest, relief flooding him like dawn’s light. “Thank you. Now, as to Peregrine—I’d like to speak with her soon. This afternoon, if possible? To ask properly, with all truths laid bare.”
Henley inclined his head. “I’ll arrange it. Discreetly.”
“And your sister—Lady Eliza?” Edwin pressed. “When can we expect her arrival? We need to be prepared, to shield our own if scandal brews.”
Gabriel sighed. “Within the fortnight, by my last correspondence. I’ll keep you apprised. But first, you must confront Lady Devon about Carver. Gently, but firmly. I’ll stay out of it—my presence would only inflame matters.”
“Wise,” Henley murmured.
As they rose, Gabriel felt the first true spark of hope. The past was a shadow, but Peregrine was his dawn. And, for her, he would face any storm.