Episode 28

Gabriel left Lady Penelope’s house without a clear destination. The cold evening air lashed against his face, but he didn’t feel it. She hadn’t believed him. The thought echoed with every furious beat of his heart. Lilian believed he was capable of betraying her—that he had never truly loved her.

His chest tightened, the pain suffocating him. It wasn’t just anger—it was the desperation of losing her.

Damien was already by the horses, his expression dark. “She believed the lie, didn’t she?”

Gabriel ran a hand over his face, trying to contain his frustration. “Yes.”

Damien took a deep breath. “And now?”

Gabriel lifted his gaze, frustration giving way to cold, unrelenting determination. “Now, I fight for her.”

Damien studied him for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle. “I thought you were going to say you’d destroy Whitaker.”

Gabriel clenched his fists. “He doesn’t matter to me. Lilian is all that matters.”

The tone of his voice left no room for doubt. This wasn’t a whim or wounded pride—he loved her.

Damien mounted his horse, watching his friend closely. Gabriel’s darkened expression told him that nothing he said would make him back down. Without hesitation, Gabriel swung into the saddle, took hold of the reins, and rode off with determined strides.

Damien sighed and followed him without another word.

***

That night, Whitaker made his way to White’s, London’s most exclusive gentlemen’s club. When his carriage stopped at the grand entrance, he stepped down with measured confidence, adjusting his leather gloves and smoothing out his coat with precise movements. He didn’t need to enter to know.

The whispers about Lilian and Gabriel had already begun circulating among the nobility. He could sense it in the veiled glances from the footmen, the hushed murmurs inside the club. They were talking about him—not with respect, but with that carefully veiled disdain dressed as courtesy.

And that couldn’t be allowed to continue.

The candlelit chandeliers bathed the grand hall in golden light, the hum of voices and muffled laughter vibrating through the air. As Whitaker crossed the room, he felt the weight of the gazes upon him. He knew what they were thinking: Whitaker is about to lose his fiancée.

He settled onto one of the leather sofas, pretending not to notice the way the men around him whispered among themselves. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Lord Whitaker!” Lord Fairfax’s voice rang out with forced enthusiasm. “What a pleasant surprise. We haven’t seen you at the club since Lady Penelope’s ball.”

The mention of the ball wasn’t accidental. Fairfax and the others knew what they had seen that night. Lilian and Gabriel. The prolonged glances. The tension between them. The silence charged with something more dangerous than words.

Whitaker forced a polite smile. “I’ve had more important matters to attend to.”

Lord Pembroke leaned toward him, his tone laced with amusement. “I imagine so. After all, they say your fiancée has been… distracted.”

A muffled chuckle rippled through the group.

Whitaker calmly placed his glass on the table, studying them like a predator sizing up its prey. “Distracted?”

“Oh, come now, Whitaker,” Fairfax murmured, savoring the provocation. “The entire city is talking about what happened at the ball. We all saw the looks between Lady Lilian and Lord Sinclair. It’s quite an uncomfortable situation for a fiancé, don’t you think?”

The men chuckled again.

Whitaker knew they were testing him. They didn’t respect him, but they didn’t fear him either—not yet.

But he would change that.

Taking a measured breath, Whitaker didn’t react with anger. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his fingers over his knee. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost amused. “So that’s what they’re saying? That Gabriel Sinclair wants to steal my fiancée?”

The nobles nodded, expecting to see him squirm. But Whitaker smiled. “I hate to disappoint you, gentlemen, but I have nothing to worry about.”

Fairfax arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what do you make of those stolen glances between your fiancée and Sinclair?”

Whitaker leaned forward slightly, letting the tension build before dropping his bombshell. “I say there is absolutely nothing between Lilian and Gabriel Sinclair.” He paused, then added ironically, “Because Gabriel already has a fiancée.”

Silence fell over the group.

Lord Pembroke blinked. “What?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Whitaker feigned surprise, letting his gaze wander slowly across their stunned faces. “I thought you were all well-informed men.”