Bride for a Night(36)



No.

Not again.

“Then you should also be aware that, whatever Lord Ashcombe’s personal opinion of you as his wife, his pride will not allow you to be a source of mockery among his peers.” Jacques thankfully distracted her dangerous thoughts. “When he judges it to be the appropriate moment, he will use his considerable power to launch you into society.”

Talia shuddered at the mere suggestion. She would as soon be left to rot in a French prison as be launched back into society.

“He cannot force them to accept me.”

“Of course he can.” Jacques’s hand shifted to brush a stray curl from her cheek. “They will not dare to do anything but bow at your pretty feet.”

Her humorless laugh floated eerily through the gallery. “Absurd.”

He shrugged aside her disbelief. “Not that taking your place among society is your most important function as the new Countess of Ashcombe.”

“I suppose you intend to tell me what it is?”

He stepped close enough to surround her in his male heat, his hands framing her face.

“I should not have to, no matter how innocent you might be.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Mons…”

“Jacques,” he huskily insisted.

“Jacques,” she impatiently muttered. “Just say what is upon your mind.”

“Very well.” His lips curved in a mocking smile. “The first and foremost duty of the Countess of Ashcombe is to produce the essential heir, ma petite.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, more disturbed by the brutal pang of need that clenched her stomach than by Jacques’s audacity.

She wasn’t stupid. In the days leading up to the wedding, there had lurked the knowledge that Gabriel would need an heir, but she had endured too many disappointments to willingly invite more. How could she have allowed herself to hope for a child when her husband might very well have decided he could not bear to bring himself to share her bed?

Even after their wedding night, she had refused to consider the possibility when it became evident she was not yet pregnant. Gabriel was obviously satisfied with his mistresses in town, leaving her alone in the country. The desperate desire to hold a baby in her arms might very well drive her mad if she allowed it to settle in her heart.


“I…”

Mistaking her unease for embarrassment, Jacques stroked his thumb over her heated cheek.

“You truly are an innocent.”

“Not so innocent as you imagine,” she said dryly.

“I find it charming.” A dangerous emotion flared through his dark eyes. “I find you charming.”

A stab of panic had Talia jerking away from his lingering touch. “I will not discuss this with you.”

Jacques folded his arms over his chest, watching her nervous retreat with a narrowed gaze.

“What will you not discuss?” he asked. “The realization that your husband is not some mythical creature who you can pretend lives in some distant land and that eventually you will have to do your duty as his wife?”

“My relationship with Lord Ashcombe is none of your concern.”

“I am merely attempting to reveal that your idyll would not have lasted beyond a few weeks,” he persisted. “You should thank me for rescuing you from an existence that would never have made you happy.”

“Rescuing me? I was kidnapped,” she sharply reminded him. “And you know nothing of how to make me happy.”

A smile of pure male confidence curled his lips. “I know you intimately, ma petite.”

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