Bride for a Night

A humorless smile twisted Gabriel’s lips. “Ah, I see my wife has revealed the dismal tale of my brother’s betrayal.”

“I gave her little choice,” Hugo admitted. “We had quite a battle of wills when it came time to sail to England.”

Gabriel sent his friend a disapproving frown. “A battle she obviously won despite my attempts to ensure her safe return to England.”

Hugo reached beneath his jacket to withdraw a starched handkerchief, absently wiping the blood from his face. Gabriel sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding, although it was swollen and bruised.

Not that his companion would be in any condition to toss himself into battle anytime soon.

Gabriel doubted his friend would be able to stand upright at the moment.

“Yes, well, you should not have wed such a stubborn minx,” Hugo accused. “She threatened to leap overboard if we did not return her to shore.”

Gabriel smiled with rueful resignation.

Only a few weeks ago he would have claimed there was nothing less desirable than a stubborn female. A proper maiden understood that it was her duty to be led by a gentleman, especially if that gentleman also happened to be her husband.

And in truth, his life would no doubt be far less complicated if Talia were the sort of woman who were content to remain quietly secluded at Carrick Park instead of tossing herself headfirst into danger.

But Gabriel felt nothing but pride at the thought of Talia’s staunch courage.

“You should have tied her to the mast,” he said, not entirely jesting.

Hugo snorted. “I doubt even that would have stopped her.”

“True.”

Silence descended before Hugo was tossing aside the soiled handkerchief and clearing his throat.

“I was mistaken.”

Gabriel lifted his brows at the abrupt statement. “You are often mistaken, Hugo. You shall have to be more specific.”

“I misjudged your wife.” His expression was somber. “She is not the shallow title hunter that I thought her to be.”

“No, she is not.”

“And she cares for you a great deal,” he continued, heaving a sigh. “Foolish woman.”

It was foolish, of course. She deserved a gentleman who would have wooed her with the pretty words and thoughtful gestures every maiden desired. Not an arrogant oaf who had ruined her wedding day and then insisted on taking her innocence before banishing her to the country.

But unfortunately for Talia, it did not matter to him how worthy or unworthy he might be. She was bound irrevocably to him. And he would never, ever allow her to escape his grasp.

“Not only foolish, but impulsive and reckless,” he said with a shake of his head.

Hugo did not bother to disagree, his gaze darting toward the doorway to ensure the guards in the hallway were not yet aware he was awake before he leaned forward and spoke in a low whisper.

“She was hidden across the street when I was captured. Perhaps she will have the sense to return to the yacht—”

“Too late,” Gabriel interrupted, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “Jacques has her imprisoned upstairs.”

“Damn.” Hugo’s face reflected his stark regret. “Forgive me, Gabriel. I have failed you.”

“No, Talia is mine to protect,” Gabriel protested, unwilling to allow his friend to shoulder the burden that was his to bear. “I should have ensured she was safely installed at Carrick Park before returning to track down Harry.”

Hugo dipped his head in agreement, his previous distrust of Talia obviously replaced by a newfound respect. Nothing less than a miracle, considering the nobleman was notorious for his disdain toward most females.

“You did not tell me if you managed to track down your brother,” Hugo reminded him.