Bride for a Night(119)

Gabriel could not deny the truth of his words. Even if Harry had managed to convince Hugo to escape from the cellars, they could not be more than a block or two away. What he needed was a distraction.

Not giving himself time to consider the danger, he paced forward, his expression taunting.


“As I have told you, Hugo has already escaped,” he said. “Any hope you might have to return Harry to England as a spy is ruined.”

“Stop right there,” Jacques warned, the pistol aimed directly at Gabriel’s heart. “I have delayed this long enough.”

Intent on the Frenchman, Gabriel briefly forgot his impulsive wife. A mistake he soon regretted as she darted toward Jacques, ignoring the pistol in his hand with a lack of fear that made Gabriel’s blood run cold.

Dammit. She was surely going to put him in his grave.

“No, Jacques,” she pleaded, reaching to place a hand on his arm. “Please, I beg of you.”

Gabriel came to a rigid halt, terrified he might accidently startle the Frenchman who had already turned his attention toward Talia. Christ, it would take no more than a stray sneeze to cause the twitchy man to pull the trigger.

“Forgive me, Talia,” Jacques murmured.

“Never.” She shook her head in vehement denial. “I will never forgive you.”

Jacques pulled his arm from her grasp, shifting to the side and unwittingly jostling a pier table. The small movement was enough to send a Chinese vase toppling to the floor. Gabriel swore as the sound of splintering pottery filled the air, making Talia give a startled scream and Jacques wave the gun in a dangerous arch.

His gaze remained trained on the pistol even when he heard the door to the chamber being thrust open and the sound of an unmistakable female gasp.

“Jacques, are you—”

Gabriel did not hesitate. As Jacques jerked toward the door he launched himself forward, using his superior bulk to knock the pistol from the bastard’s hands and ram him into the floor.

There was a satisfying grunt of pain as Jacques smacked his head against the floor, but before he could get his arms wrapped around the man, he was caught off guard by an infuriated Sophia Reynard who charged forward to pummel his back with surprising force.

Trying to shrug aside the madwoman, Gabriel lost his grip on Jacques who promptly pulled a dagger from beneath his jacket and pressed it to Gabriel’s neck.

“Move and I will slice open your throat.”



TALIA WATCHED in frozen fear as Gabriel knocked Jacques to the ground. Was he demented? For God’s sake, Jacques was holding a loaded gun. He could have been killed.

Clearly the Earl of Ashcombe was in need of a stern lecture on how a proper husband was supposed to behave.

And it certainly did not include risking his fool neck.

Braced for the explosive sound of a gunshot, her knees went weak when instead she watched the pistol fly from Jacques’s hand to land near the bed. Oh, thank God. She pressed a hand to her thundering heart.

Miraculously, Gabriel had survived his reckless attack, and as she turned her attention back to the two men wrestling on the carpet she realized that he appeared to actually have gained the upper hand as he pressed Jacques to the floor with his larger form.

Her relief, however, was short-lived. Only distantly aware of Sophia entering the room, Talia was unprepared when the woman abruptly rushed across the room to smack Gabriel in the middle of his back.

“No,” she breathed, already moving forward to launch her own attack when Jacques pressed the dagger to Gabriel’s neck and threatened to slit his throat.