Bride for a Night(163)

Gabriel might have accepted his friend’s explanation had he not been behaving as a lunatic over the past week.


He was distracted one moment, short-tempered the next and inclined to stare blankly for hours on end, lost in the midst of a daydream.

Gabriel struggled to hide his smile. “How very generous of you to sacrifice your pleasant stay at Carrick Park to spend days on the road traveling with a tedious wallflower…”

Hugo barreled forward, grasping Gabriel’s shoulders and giving him a warning shake.

“You will never speak of Miss Lansing in that manner again,” he snarled. “Do you understand?”

Gabriel tilted back his head to laugh with rich amusement. Who would have thought that the mighty Lord Rothwell, the hulking brute who terrified most gentlemen of the ton, could be felled by a female half his size?

“I understand perfectly.”

Coming to his senses, Hugo released his tight grip and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Forgive me. I am…”

“Baffled, bemused and bewildered?” Gabriel suggested wryly.

“Yes.” With a heavy sigh, Hugo dropped his hands and squared his shoulders. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Gabriel’s smile faded to a somber frown as he studied his friend.

He had not forgotten his futile battle against his feelings for Talia. Nor how he had allowed his stubborn pride to harm the woman who deserved nothing but his highest regard.

How could he call himself a friend if he did not do everything necessary to keep Hugo from repeating his mistakes?

“It would seem to me that you have two paths that you can follow.”

“And they are?”

“You can return to your estates and put Miss Lansing from your mind,” Gabriel said, not at all surprised when Hugo’s body stiffened in a silent rebuff of the reasonable suggestion. It was already obvious he was too far gone to take the sensible path. “Or…”

“Or?”

Gabriel set aside his glass to clap a hand on his friend’s shoulder, his expression rueful.

“Or you can accept the inevitable with far more grace and dignity than I did.”

Hugo shook his head. “You are not reassuring me, Ashcombe.”

Sensing that his friend had made his decision regardless of whether he had admitted the truth to himself or not, Gabriel found his curiosity provoked by the woman who had captured his interest. He had dismissed Miss Lansing as just another society chit, but it was obvious he must have been mistaken in her character.

“Tell me, Hugo, what is it about Miss Lansing that has attracted you?”

“I am not at all certain,” Rothwell admitted with a smile that warmed his golden eyes. “I find her beauty enticing and I enjoy a woman with soft curves, but there is no doubting that she is not at all the current fashion.” He paused, as if calling the image of Miss Lansing to mind. Obviously not a difficult task. “Her curls are brown rather than gold and they refuse to be properly styled. She has dark eyes that are pretty enough, but instead of gazing at a man with invitation, they hold a good deal too much censure, whether it is earned or not.”

Gabriel heaved a sigh. He, better than anyone, understood the danger of becoming fond of a female who should never have caught his attention.

It was, after all, easy enough for a man to mistake lust for love. Such passing fancies were forgotten as swiftly as they struck and rarely cost a gentleman more than a few expensive baubles.

But when a man turned his thoughts to a female who was destined to lead him about like a hound on a leash…well, that was a far greater danger.