Page 58 of How to Best a Marquess

“Oh, that. We mostly avoid each other.” Ellie felt herself flush and prayed her cheeks were not turning a telltale pink.

“Hmm. I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“I already told you. Because of the way he looked at you,” Grace said.

“You’re wrong.” Ellie swallowed in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She couldn’t talk about her shared afternoon with Hugh. Couldn’t even think of it.

Trust me, he’d said.

She’d asked him to prevent risk of a babe. He’d kept his promise and had withdrawn before finishing inside her, but he was still untrustworthy. He’d been deceiving her for years.

She felt shattered inside, permanently broken. Just when she had begun to believe in him again, he’d told her about the past.

The true past.

Never had she suspected his parents had feared scandal by wedding their son to her. The awful rumors that Ian had killed Matthew to gain the earldom had haunted her brother. Ian might never have spoken of it, but both Ellie and Olivia knew the damage it had done to their brother.

Grace had learned of it as well. Ian must have told her.

Ellie had often believed that it didn’t matter what others whispered behind their backs, only that they knew the truth and loved each other. Family was what mattered. Ian had protected and sheltered his siblings, his wife, for as long as Ellie could remember.

As for rumors of the Raven Club, it was all true. Ellie hadn’t given those rumors much thought.

She’d been wrong not to.

The old marquess and his wife had. And it had influenced their son. Hugh had known Ellie was to come to the gardens that fateful night. They had arranged it. Then he’d intentionally let her see his shared kiss with Isabelle. He’d purposely broken her heart.

Why?

Because his cold-blooded aristocratic parents had been against their match, had threatened to toss him out without a shilling? Ellie would not have cared. Ian would have given his consent for the marriage and would have aided them until they could have managed on their own.

But her feelings hadn’t mattered to Hugh. He hadn’t wanted to go to her brother. Hugh had been too proud to ask for money, and his pride had ruined their future. The only thing that had mattered to Hugh was his twisted belief that he was doing what he thought was best for her. He’d never given her a chance and had never asked her opinion.

Even more devastating was the fact that he still believed he’d done the right thing.

Once again, she’d let her guard down, been her most vulnerable, and allowed him to mislead her.

Grace watched her, her eyes sparkling with intelligence. “At one time, I was as stubborn as you are now.”

Hugh had called her stubborn as well. Anger rose to her defense. “I am not stubborn!”

“Hmm.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I apologize. But please know that I am here should you wish to talk. I am a good listener. Plus, I have nowhere else to be, remember?”

Ellie let out a puff of air. It wasn’t fair to blame Grace. She didn’t know the entire truth. Ellie had just learned of it herself.

“Thank you, but all is well.” Ellie refused to speak of the marquess, not when everything was fresh and she was hurting.

Grace reached for a piece of foolscap on an end table by her bedside. “We received an invitation to Lord and Lady Scotchfield’s ball, and it is two evenings from now. I cannot attend, but Olivia wishes to. Will you attend with your sister if Ian escorts both of you?”

“Ian agreed to go without you?”

“I gave him little choice. I insist he do right by his sisters,” Grace said.