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and my financial plans are officially canceled.”
    As a matter of fact, she was happy and relieved her wedding was canceled, but no matter how difficult a man he was, she couldn’t find delight in her father’s misery. He may not have been a doting father through the years, but he’d certainly never done her harm. Gabrielle wished she could tell him that she took it all back, but that wasn’t true. She knew she wouldn’t want to have missed those few incredible minutes she’d spent in the viscount’s strong arms for anything in the world.
    “But surely, Papa, you will regain the properties you promised to the earl as my dowry when the betrothal was arranged; so all will not be lost.”
    The duke harrumphed disdainfully. “I would never give away anything I wanted.”
    The sting of her father’s carelessly chosen words pierced her, and she gasped. “But what about me, Papa? You were willing to give me away.”
    To a man you knew I didn’t love.
    “What?” He waved his hand as if to brush off what she said. “No. I mean, yes, of course, Gabrielle. Fathers always give their daughters away in marriage, but make no mistake. You will always be my daughter. And if any man dares hurt you in any way, he would have me to answer to.”
    Gabrielle knew that was as close as he was going to come to an endearing comment.
    “What I meant was that the whole of what I promised to Austerhill and his son are worthless lands to me and useless business ventures I wanted to dispose of anyway. He is the one who had the prized lands I wanted to add to my holdings. Now, thanks to you, I won’t get them.”
    Her father had never tried to hide his many business ventures from her, often bragging to her, and to Ellis when he was home from Oxford, about his lucrative deals. He seemed to be happiest when he was trying to lure some unsuspecting soul into selling their land, their horses, or their businesses to him.
    Gabrielle walked farther into the room. “If that’s the case, Papa, maybe now is the right time to bring this up. Perhaps in a few days you could suggest to Lord Austerhill and to Staunton that they might consider Rosabelle’s hand in marriage so the arrangements the two families have put in place can proceed as originally planned.”
    “What?” The duke turned toward her, glass in hand, and laughed bitterly. “Ha! How well I would like that! But I can assure you, Gabrielle, that neither the earl nor his weak-kneed son wants anything to do with either of my daughters now, later, or ever.”
    Gabrielle blinked at her father’s harsh words as he put the glass to his mouth, drank heavily from it, and then turned his back on her to refill it. At least there was hope, since her father didn’t know Staunton wanted to be with Rosabelle. And her father wanted the lands, so he would be agreeable. The only one to worry about would be Lord Austerhill. Surely in time, his son could persuade him to allow marriage with Rosabelle.
    “But maybe all is not lost.” Her father spoke more as if talking to himself than her.
    “What?”
    “I’ve already sent word to Viscount Brentwood, asking him to come see me late this afternoon.”
    Gabrielle tensed. “Papa, can’t we just leave him out of this? I want to forget about what happened in the park.”
    The duke turned back toward her and harrumphed again as he walked toward his desk. “If only we could. Wouldn’t that be a pretty ribbon wrapped around a boar’s tail? But, no, we can’t just forget about him. I have no doubt that, in time, news of your indiscretion will be tattled from the tongues of men at the clubs and whispered from the waspish mouths of every old hen and every young biddy in the ton.”
    “That certainly puts the situation I’m in bluntly.”
    “These kinds of things have a way of growing all out of proportion, but you did it, not I. Obviously, I would have considered the viscount for you, along with all the rest of the blades who were knocking on my door, had