Bride for a Night(169)

A pleased blush touched her cheeks. “I hope to do what I can to improve their lives and that of their children.”

He gently cupped her chin in his palm, tilting back her head to regard her with an oddly somber expression.

“Talia, you are destined to be the finest countess ever to grace the Ashcombe family.”

She became momentarily lost in the silver beauty of his eyes. But she was not going to allow herself to be charmed.

Silently chastising herself for being so susceptible to this man, she shook off his hand, her expression warning that she would not be diverted.

“You have yet to explain your wish for a wife you do not love.”

An obvious reluctance to finish the discussion tightened his jaw, but with a deep breath he forced himself to continue.

“As I said, I have come to accept my duties as an earl, but the responsibilities of becoming the head of the family have not been so easy to bear,” he confessed.


Talia sensed that she was touching an ancient wound that he was careful to keep hidden from others.

“Because of Harry’s habit of causing trouble?”

“Not entirely because of my brother,” he corrected her. “Even though Harry has been a constant source of concern, he was no more demanding than my mother.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “She had depended utterly upon my father, and after his death she expected me to devote myself to offering her comfort.”

“Ah.” Yet another dangerous surge of tenderness rushed through her heart. “And who offered you comfort?”

He flinched at her soft question, his eyes shimmering with a long-held pain.

“There was no one.” He clenched his hands as he slowly glanced around the room, no doubt remembering the days when his father sat behind the desk and admired his fine collection. “I had no opportunity to mourn.”

She bit her lip, blinking back sudden tears. “I am sorry.”

“So am I.” With a sad shake of his head, he returned his attention to Talia’s sympathetic expression. “I did not realize how much I resented the demands of my family, at least not consciously. But the mere thought of wedding a female who would make even more demands upon my emotions was frankly untenable.”

“Oh, Gabriel,” she breathed, beginning to comprehend his fear of emotion. He had, after all, been taught that love came with cumbersome duties and little reward. “Love should never be a burden.”

“So I am beginning to discover,” he conceded. Then without warning he tugged her into his arms.

“What are you…”

“I was too much a coward to follow my instincts,” he interrupted her protest, holding her against his chest as he gazed down at her flushed face with sudden determination. “But once your father demanded that I become your bridegroom, I was swift enough to take advantage of the situation.”

She stilled, regarding him with a wary frown. “My father forced you to wed me.”

“Do you truly believe I could be forced to do anything against my will?” he drawled.

“What are you saying?”

His arms tightened around her, the heat of his hands searing through the sheer muslin of her gown.

“I agreed to your father’s demands because I wanted to agree.”

She sucked in a disbelieving breath, trying to pretend that her heart had not given a sudden leap of hope.

“You told me that you were marrying me to avoid a scandal.”

“That is what I told myself as well, but we both know that I possess the power and the resources to have destroyed your father had I genuinely been averse to taking you as my bride.” He peered deep into her eyes, willing her to believe him. “I married you because that was what I wanted. Even if I could not admit the truth, even to myself.”