Bride for a Night(122)

Following his directions, Talia walked beside Sophia, pretending she did not hear the faint scuttle of mice. Surely a few small rodents were the least of her concerns?

“I am sorry, but I could not allow him to kill Gabriel,” she said as they reached the stairs, needing to distract herself from her raw nerves.

The older woman lifted the hem of her thin robe as she cautiously navigated the narrow steps.

“Would you have pulled the trigger?”

Talia grimaced. Although she refused to regret doing what was necessary to keep Gabriel alive, it was not a question she desired to ponder.

Not when it made her wonder if she had inherited more of her father’s merciless nature than she had realized.

“In all honesty, I do not know,” she muttered.

There was an awkward pause before Sophia gently cleared her throat.

“I suppose I should be offering you my appreciation.”

“Appreciation?”

The Frenchwoman smiled wryly. “I would never have dared to believe Jacques would choose me over his loyalty to France.” She sliced a glance toward Talia. “Or his desire for you.”

Talia shook her head, unable to believe a woman of Sophia’s sophistication was not readily aware of Jacques’s devotion. She was precisely the sort of woman that must have had dozens of men worshipping her pretty feet over the years.

But perhaps even beautiful women could be insecure when their heart was involved, she realized with a flare of surprise.

Odd to consider after all the years she had assumed those annoyingly fashionable debutantes were never plagued by painful doubts.

“He loves you if only he were not too stubborn to accept his feelings,” she assured her companion.

Unexpectedly Sophia sucked in a sharp breath. “Do not say such a thing, s’il vous plait.”

Talia blinked in confusion at the woman’s fierce response. “Why not? You have just pointed out that he proved that he cares for you.”

The woman pitched her voice low enough to ensure it would not carry through the shadowed tunnel.

“I will agree he holds an affection for me,” she grudgingly confessed. “And, of course, the thought that I was in danger would have stirred his protective instincts, but I would never be idiotic enough to believe he could offer more.”

Talia reached to give the woman’s arm a comforting squeeze, recalling her own misery when Gabriel had sent her to Carrick Park. She had been quite convinced at the time that she was destined to spend her life alone and unloved.

Now…

She swallowed a sigh. Now she was not quite so certain of her future.

“It is not idiotic to hope,” she murmured softly.

“Almost you tempt me,” Sophia said with a sigh. Then, turning her head, she studied Talia with a somber expression. “Talia.”

“Yes?”

“Do not doubt that had our positions been reversed, I should not hesitate to pull the trigger.”

Talia nearly stumbled over the bottom step at the blunt confession.

“I shall keep that in mind.”



KEEPING THE PISTOL aimed at the Frenchman walking at his side, Gabriel kept a close watch on the two females a few steps ahead of them. They whispered together as if they were old friends, but he was not as trusting as Talia. Sophia was not the typical society maiden content to demurely depend upon a gentleman’s offer of protection. He did not doubt that beneath her fragile beauty she was as dangerous as any cutthroat.

Thankfully she made no effort to attack Talia, and as they reached the end of the passageway, Gabriel shifted his concern to the closed door that blocked their path. He was not going to charge into the cellars without being assured there were no nasty surprises awaiting them.