Bride for a Night

“Calais?” Talia blinked in confusion. “Calais, France?”

He gave a sharp nod. “Yes.”

“That’s absurd. What would he be doing in Calais?”

“Avoiding the men whom I sent in pursuit of him, for one thing. And for another…” He grimaced in disgust.

Talia lifted a hand to lightly touch his cheek. “Gabriel?”

A bleak emotion darkened his silver eyes, sending a chill of foreboding down Talia’s spine.

“For another he is attempting to fleece Jacques Gerard for the funds necessary to continue his extravagant lifestyle in France.”

Harry and Jacques were acquainted? It would be natural when they were in Devonshire, although Talia could not imagine Harry ever wishing to become friendly with a vicar, even if he did reside on his family’s estate. But they were in France, and if Harry knew that Jacques was here, then he must also know that he was a spy.

Which would mean…she cut off the thought before it could fully form.

“I do not understand.”

“I wish to hell I did not,” Gabriel muttered. “Harry is a traitor.”

Even with a suspicion of what was coming, Talia reeled from the shocking announcement.

“No.” She pulled away, shaking her head in denial. “It cannot be.”

As if predicting her disbelief, Gabriel was already moving to pull out a folded note from his jacket, shoving it into her hand. “Here.”

It took only a moment to skim through the signed confession, her heart sinking with every word. Dear lord, she had always thought Harry weak, but this…

She handed the note back to Gabriel with a dreary expression. “How could he do such a thing?”

“I have no answer,” Gabriel said bleakly. “Harry has always been spoiled by my mother, but so are any number of noblemen and they do not become spies.”

“Not you,” she said before she could halt the words.

He lifted his brows. “I beg your pardon?”

She wrapped her arms over her breasts, feeling oddly exposed.

“You were not overindulged,” she reluctantly clarified.

Gabriel gently draped his jacket around her shoulders, tucking it around her body.

“No, when I was not at school I was expected to spend my days with my father to learn the duties of an earl,” he agreed without a hint of regret at having been denied a childhood. Indeed, his expression softened with obvious fondness at the mention of his father. “My earliest memories are leading a team of mules through a field while my father helped the tenants toss hay onto the cart they pulled.”

She studied him. Truly studied him. The fallen-angel beauty of his face. The elegance of his body. The power he carried with such ease. And the confidence of a man who had been adored his entire life.

The sight reminded her of her earlier belief that Harry had lived his entire life in Gabriel’s shadow.

“Harry never joined you?”

Gabriel gave a lift of one shoulder. “He had no interest in the estates, only in the luxury they provided for him.”

“Or perhaps he resented your close relationship with your father,” she cautiously suggested. “It would explain why your mother was so eager to overindulge him.”

He instantly bristled. “My father was not to blame for Harry’s treachery.”

“Of course not,” she soothed. “But Harry’s resentment might have begun at an early age and been encouraged by your remarkable popularity among society.” She smiled wryly. “You do, after all, put most gentlemen in the shade.”