Bride for a Night

“You cannot be so cruel.”

“It is what must be done.” Jacques did not even bother to appear apologetic. “I have hungry mouths to feed and dangerously empty coffers.”

“Tell me how much you will request for Gabriel’s release and I will ensure that it is delivered to you,” she countered. “There is no need to bully an old woman.”

His brows snapped together. “Have you forgotten that old woman has publicly shunned you since your marriage?”

Talia flinched. Of course she had not forgotten. Nor was she naïve enough to imagine that the dowager countess would ever consider her as anything other than an embarrassment that should be hidden from society.

But, while the Ashcombes might not consider her worthy, Talia was now a member of the family, and she would do whatever was necessary to protect them.

“What does it matter so long as you have the money to feed your children?”

“You…” Jacques gave a shake of his head, regarding her with an odd expression. “What?”

“I have forgotten there are still truly good people in this world.” He stepped forward, gently brushing her heavy curls from her cheek. “You terrify me.”

She shifted with unease beneath the intensity of his stare.

“Now you are taunting me.”

“Non.” His fingers brushed down the line of her jaw. “You are one of those women who tempt a man to reform his sinful ways. Dangerous.”

Talia frowned at the absurdity of his claim.

She had been at the mercy of men since the day she’d been born. Her father. Harry. Gabriel. And now even Jacques. All of them had forced their will upon her.

“Very charming, but if I have discovered nothing else it is that no man is willing to reform his sinful ways for a mere woman. Or at least, not for me.” She scowled as Jacques’s laughter rang through the room. “What is so amusing?”

His eyes shimmered with a rueful humor. “I have devoted my entire life to gaining freedom for the French people, even when it meant returning to England and deceiving those neighbors who trusted me. And yet I have risked everything to bring you with me rather than disposing of you as I should have.”

“You could never kill an innocent,” she protested.

“I have done far worse, ma petite.” A wistful smile curved his lips. “But when you look at me with those beautifully trusting eyes, I long to be the man that you see.”

“Jacques.”

“And what you have done to me pales in comparison to the destruction that you have wrought in your poor husband,” he continued.

“That is not amusing.”

Jacques clicked his tongue. “Surely you must be aware that before your marriage the Earl of Ashcombe was notorious for being an arrogant, overly proud gentleman who remained aloof from all but a few privileged friends?”

“I suppose he was considered aloof,” she grudgingly conceded.

“He was a coldhearted bastard,” Jacques corrected in dry tones, “but within a few weeks you have reduced him to a possessive barbarian who recklessly charged into danger the moment he realized that you were missing.”

“That is…” She sucked in a deep breath. “You are being absurd.”

“The poor man is currently roaring like a demented madman in my cellars.” His smile held an edge of satisfaction. He was evidently pleased by the thought of Gabriel suffering. “What further proof do you desire?”

For a moment of utter madness, Talia allowed herself to believe Gabriel had come to consider her as more than a burden that must be suffered for the sake of his family pride. But she hastily squashed the ridiculous notion.

This was not the time or place for absurdities.

“All I desire is to be allowed to return to England with my husband.” She pulled from his lingering touch. “How much money do you require?”

He folded his arms over his chest, regarding her with a brooding gaze.