Bride for a Night

“Thank God,” she murmured. Then as the silence returned she heaved a deep sigh. “What about the horse? We cannot just abandon him.”

Giving the horse a pat on his flank, Gabriel watched as the beast slowly turned and plodded back down the trail.

“He will find his way home,” he assured his tender-hearted companion.

“You are certain?”

“Who else would want the spiritless creature?”

She smiled, no doubt sensing his amusement at her concern.

“It is just that I do not like to think about him wandering through the countryside alone.”

Hugo snorted. Gabriel sent him an annoyed scowl, aware his friend was watching their exchange with pronounced disapproval.

“Hugo, return to the yacht and ensure that a hot bath is waiting for my wife.”

Hugo’s hands clenched at his sides, but, unwilling to argue in the midst of enemy territory, he gave a stiff nod of his head.

“As you wish.”

Waiting until his friend had disappeared around a bend in the road, Gabriel grasped Talia’s elbow and followed in Hugo’s wake.

“Do not allow him to trouble you.”

She smiled wryly. “Simple for you to say. He is rather…intimidating.”

Intimidating was not precisely the description that Gabriel would have used at the moment.

Obnoxious jackass came to mind.

“I will speak with him.”

“No.” She adamantly declined his offer. “I would rather you did not.”

“Why?”

“He is your friend and he is concerned for your happiness.” Her expression was impossible to read. “I do not fault him for that.”

“I will not allow him—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “I would prefer to think of the hot bath awaiting me than dwell on Lord Rothwell’s disapproval. That is a problem for another day.”

Gabriel swallowed his words of argument. What was the use in upsetting his wife? He would deal with Hugo in private.

They traveled in silence, at last stepping out of the trees to discover the rocky coastline directly before them.

Talia grimaced at the sight of the steep cliff, but with her typical habit of facing the difficulties in her life without complaint, she firmly grasped his arm and allowed him to lead her down the narrow trail.

The footing was loose, and a shower of pebbles greeted every treacherous step, but slowly they managed to wind their way to the bottom of the cliff.

Gabriel allowed Talia only a few moments to catch her breath before steering her around a large boulder that jutted nearly to the edge of the water. As he had suspected, a small rowboat awaited them along with a burly sailor who silently assisted Talia into the boat. Once Gabriel was settled beside her, the man rowed them toward the nearby yacht with swift efficiency.

Turning his head, Gabriel watched as Talia caught sight of the sleek vessel that had been made by the finest craftsmen in England.

Her eyes widened in suitable wonder, taking in the teardrop-shaped hull and the huge mast that could withstand the most fearsome storm. It was not, perhaps, as large as many crafts, but it was built for speed and comfort, not to impress others.

His brows drew together as he realized the crew was bustling along the decks, preparing to return the earl and his countess back to England. Calculating his next move, his features hardened briefly before he was able to smooth his expression. Talia was too perceptive not to suspect his plans if he did not take care.