Bride for a Night(103)

Hugo had been willing to risk his neck to rescue his friend. He deserved to know the danger they both faced.

With an effort, Gabriel forced his gaze back to his friend.

“Jacques Gerard just left the room after informing me that Harry is about to become the next Earl of Ashcombe.”

“Impossible—” Hugo began, only to suck in a sharp breath as he realized that there was one means to make it possible. “Damnation.”

“Precisely,” Gabriel agreed in clipped tones. “And I fear you are to be sacrificed along with me to elevate my brother to the title.”

Hugo breathed a few choice curses, his contempt for Harry etched into his expression.

“And Harry has agreed to this plan?”

Gabriel wearily shrugged. “I pray he has not, but in truth…I do not know.”

As if sensing Gabriel’s reluctance to discuss Harry’s potential for fratricide, Hugo narrowed his gaze with a sudden surge of determination.

“Well, it does not matter,” he announced firmly. “Neither of us is going to be sacrificed.”

Gabriel smiled wryly. “Agreed.”

The golden gaze shifted toward the doorway where two soldiers were standing guard.

“Now we just need to discover the means to avoid our imminent death.”



JACQUES DID NOT allow himself the opportunity to consider his bold decision as he headed to the private study at the back of the townhouse.

It was his favorite room in the house that had once belonged to the Comte de Devanne.

Although not as large as the library, it was a spacious chamber. Gilt-wood armchairs with teal velvet covers matched the curtains covering the windows overlooking the back garden. A pair of lacquer cabinets framed a Brussels tapestry along the far wall while the heavy oak desk was set to face the white marble fireplace veined with gold.

He had removed the ornate figurines and porcelain plates that had littered the room before he had claimed it as his own, replacing them with the precious sculptures his father had completed before his untimely death.

It was his private domain that no one dared enter without his specific invitation.

Or at least no one with any amount of sense, he corrected, anger flaring through him as the door to the study was thrust open and Harry Richardson strolled in as if he were a welcome guest rather than a necessary pest.

“Harry.” Carefully sealing the letter he had just completed, Jacques rose from the desk and crossed toward the side door that opened into the connected antechamber. “I do not recall issuing an invitation for you to join me.”

An all too familiar sullen expression marred the younger man’s face.

“I need to speak with you.”

Gesturing to the soldier who stood guard in the antechamber, Jacques handed him the folded note. Despite the lateness of the hour, he wanted his emperor to be fully aware of his change in plans.

Not that he doubted Napoleon would protest his scheme. He was ruthless in his quest to conquer Europe. And perhaps the world.

There were no sacrifices too great to fulfill his ambitions.

“See that this is delivered to the emperor without delay,” he commanded.

“Oui.”

With military precision the guard turned on his heel and rushed from the room. The letter would be in Napoleon’s hands within a few days.

Strolling back to his desk, he settled on the corner as he sent his companion a mocking gaze.

“You see how a good soldier is capable of obeying orders?”

A flush crawled beneath Harry’s pale skin. “I am not one of your damned soldiers.”