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the scandal had near ruined him years ago; no matter, he had not known…
    “Threw her out,” Fenshaw said. “Without a reference to her name, even when her belly swelled with his babe.”
    “She was our maid, Eloise, and she came to me. For weeks I pushed her advances away, but eventually I succumbed.”
    Eloise wrenched her hand from his and stepped away. “Miss Fenshaw was your maid? How is this so?”
    He swallowed the dread that rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. “I didn't know she was Fenshaw's sister. And I never forced her. Please believe me.”
    “Is what this man says true?” Eloise asked, her face stricken. “Did you sleep with your servant and get her pregnant?”
    Gabe tried to take her hand again with little luck. “I did, but please, let me explain the full truth.”
    “Who are you?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to believe.”
    “He is a bastard and one I have been longing to settle with.” Fenshaw stepped toward him and stopped a foot from his face. Eye to eye, nose to nose he said, “Tomorrow at dawn we meet. I will have my day defending my sister's honor, and you, sir, will meet a fitting end for a reprobate.”
    Gabe turned to Eloise, his heart aching with the pain he’d caused her. She looked lost and confused, and he had hurt her. “Let me explain, it is not as bad as Fenshaw makes out.”
    “Pistols at dawn,” Fenshaw said, giving no quarter on his stance.
    “It's illegal to duel,” Eloise said, looking at Fenshaw. “You kill a duke and you'll end up hanging on the ropes like the men who rot in Newgate.”
    Fenshaw shrugged, a mad gleam to his eyes. “If death is what it takes for my sister's honor to be restored, then I will gladly face the consequences. The Duke of Dale wronged our family and will pay dearly for his sins.”
    At the man’s ignorance Gabe’s temper snapped. “I never knew she was your sister, and when I did, it was too late to repair the damage I had done.”
    “That does not make your actions right,” Eloise said to him, her brow furrowed. “A servant is someone in your care, a worker who should be protected from harm and treated with respect.” A tear slipped free. “I do not know who you are.”
    Gabe swallowed and pulled forth all the ducal breeding he had in him. “I am Dale. Your betrothed, should I need to remind you.”
    “I cannot marry you.”
    Her lip quivered and Gabe fought the urge to wrap her in his arms. Knew any attempt to comfort her would be met with disdain and loathing. “And why is that?”
    “You lie,” she said. “Lie about everything. About who you are and what you have done. I don't know you at all. And I will not marry you. I'm sorry.”
    Gabe watched the woman he loved walk down the darkened passage and wondered how the hell he was going to get her back. He turned and looked at Fenshaw, then allowed all the rage he had controlled for the past few minutes to come to the fore. “Pistols at dawn it is. Putney Heath, if you will.”
    “I will indeed. My second will be in touch.” Fenshaw bowed and followed Eloise into the ballroom.
    Gabe ran a hand through his hair and cursed. What a mess he'd made of it all, and now, after not even a day in London, and he had lost the only woman he'd ever loved.
    Damnation.
     
     

 
    Eight
     
    “He's a liar and a despoiler of innocent women.” Eloise wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Her life was over. To find Gabe again, only to lose him, was too much to bear. How she could ever forgive his indiscretions was unimaginable. “You do not know that.” Emma sat beside her. “Listen, I spoke to Bertie at the ball, and from what I could persuade him to tell me, His Grace may not be totally to blame.”
    Eloise met her friend's consoling gaze and sniffed. “He slept with Lord Fenshaw's sister and left her with child. How can he not be blamed for such roguish behaviour?”
    Emma handed her a handkerchief. “Miss Fenshaw's mind was disordered, from