Bride for a Night(175)

He heaved a sigh, lowering his head to stab her with an impatient glare.

“Because I had no notion you could be so foolish.”

Her lips flattened in warning. “Gabriel.”

“I did not wish you to believe I was troubled by what society thinks of you, because I am not,” he said in a tight voice. “So far as I am concerned, they can all rot in the deepest pits of hell. But I knew eventually you would want to return to London, and I wished to make certain they could no longer hurt you with their vile tongues. But I did it for you and your comfort. Never because I cared what they might say.”

“Oh.” Her fingers drifted to his lips. “I love you.”

“Thank God.” He cast her a pleading gaze. “Now can we please retire to our chambers?”

Her soft chuckle filled the air. “Whatever are you waiting for?”

Eight months later

THE BALLROOM on the top floor of the Ashcombe’s London townhouse was a long, ivory room with a parquet floor that had been polished until it glowed. There were a dozen gilded half columns that framed the numerous double doors leading into the attached rooms that had been set up for dinner as well as card rooms for those who preferred to avoid the crowded dance floor. And overhead there was a vaulted ceiling with three massive chandeliers that were reflected in the soaring mirrors at each end of the room.

Talia stood on a dais beneath the balcony where the orchestra played a rousing country tune, dancers spinning about her in a dizzying array of brilliant satins and glittering jewels. Talia allowed a smile of pure contentment to curve her lips.

Although she had slowly come to trust Gabriel’s mother as she had escorted Talia from one society event to another, she could not deny her trepidation when the older woman had insisted that she and Gabriel host their own ball.


It did not matter that she had been invited into the most exclusive homes in London over the past weeks. Or even that the frosty receptions had slowly melted to a measure of genuine welcome as she’d lost her reserve and managed to converse without her usual stammering. The fear that no one would bother to attend her first gathering had refused to be dismissed.

Now she realized that she need not have worried.

The townhouse was nearly groaning beneath the weight of the vast crowd, and Vale had recently whispered in her ear that he had been forced to turn away several uninvited guests.

Of course, her obvious triumph as a hostess was not the true reason for her contentment.

Or at least not entirely.

She was certainly vain enough to take pleasure in the sight of the ton filling her home. She beamed in pride as she gazed down her pretty blue satin ball gown with silver trimming about the hem. The low-cut bodice was stitched with rows of pearls that matched the strands of pearls threaded through her dark curls.

But she had far more important matters to fill her heart with joy.

Her smile widened as she recalled Gabriel’s fierce relief upon receiving a note this morning from Harry. His brother was well and currently traveling through India where he had encountered several other English noblemen who were touring the country.

The assurance that his brother had fully recovered and that he was far away from Jacques Gerard and France healed a wound that had plagued Gabriel since their flight from Calais.

But in truth, it was the tiny surprise growing within her that offered the greatest sense of pleasure.

“I hope you are pleased.” Joining her on the dais, Hannah Lansing waved a plump hand toward the twirling couples. “The ball is an undoubted success.”

Talia nodded, her gaze running down Hannah’s white tulle dress that was layered over a lavender underskirt with matching feathers in her hair. The young maiden might not be considered a beauty, but there was a fresh innocence in her round face and a ready humor in her dark eyes.