Bride for a Night

His brows snapped together. “There are other items?”

“If there are none now, there soon will be.”

“An empty bluff,” he growled.

“Poor Lord Ashcombe.” Sophia regarded him with a pity that set h

is teeth on edge. “Only this morning Jacques received word from your brother demanding money and a place to remain hidden from the ‘devils his brother had sent in pursuit of him.’”

A humorless smile stretched Gabriel’s lips at the irony of the situation. He had sent his servants to find his brother so he could punish him for having forced Gabriel into an unwanted wedding.

Who could have guessed that jilting Talia would prove to be the least of his sins?

“And Jacques agreed to assist Harry?”

“Of course. As the brother of the Earl of Ashcombe, Harry is a priceless associate.”

“Where did the letter come from?”

“Here.”

Gabriel went rigid at the unexpected word. “In the palace?”

“Non. The letter was delivered from Calais.” They both froze as the muffled sound of voices floated through the door. “My lord, someone approaches. We can delay no longer.”

With a low curse, Gabriel yanked his thoughts from his brother and concentrated on the dangers at hand. He would not have to worry about Harry if he ended up in an unmarked French grave. “Fine.”

Still unwilling to fully trust Sophia, he moved to wrap an imprisoning arm around her shoulders as he led her toward the door. He did not intend to have an enemy follow him.

He had been stabbed in the back enough for one day.

Besides, she would make a handy hostage if the need arose.

He had nearly reached the opposite side of the cellar when there was a squeak of the hinges, and the heavy door was being pushed open.

Cursing his lack of a weapon, Gabriel had no choice but to helplessly watch as the door swung slowly inward.

Prepared for one of the guards or even Jacques, Gabriel was stunned into immobility at the sight of the familiar female with a mass of untamed curls and emerald green eyes clutching a small bundle in her arms.

“God almighty…” he breathed. “Talia?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AFTER RECOVERING FROM the considerable drop from her window, Talia had hastily searched for her belongings that Gabriel had left in the garden after being captured. It had taken only a few moments before she was sneaking through the darkness in search of the cellars.

Along the way she had dodged and darted past the various guards while inwardly preparing herself to accept that Gabriel might very well be in dire condition.

Who knew what Jacques might have done to him?

He could be chained to the walls. Or recovering from a brutal beating. Or maimed from some hideous torture.

Her imagination had conjured any number of terrible fates, but she had never once considered the possibility that he would be passing his time with a beautiful, near-naked woman wrapped in his arms. Worthless pig.

Coming to an awkward halt, she regarded her husband with a proud tilt of her chin.

“Forgive me,” she uttered through gritted teeth. “I had the most ridiculous notion that you might desire to be rescued.” Her gaze shifted to the woman at his side, not at all comforted by the realization that she was a good ten years her senior. What did it matter? The woman was the sort of sensual siren who would be tempting men until the day she died. “It did not occur that you might be occupied.”

The unknown woman ran a dark, scrutinizing gaze over Talia, a mysterious smile curving her lips.