Bride for a Night(69)

“Here,” he murmured, bending to lay Talia on the hay. “Not the most comfortable of beds, but it is better than the ground. Give me your bundle.”

Taking her rolled up dress, he tucked it beneath her head. Then, struggling out of his tight jacket, he gently laid it across her shoulders. Only when he was certain she was as comfortable as possible, did he lie down beside her and tuck her against his body.

She stiffened. “Gabriel?”

“Shh.” He laid a finger across her lips. “We will have only a few hours to rest. Close your eyes and go to sleep.”

Braced for an argument, Gabriel was unprepared when she instead snuggled into his embrace and, with a soft sigh, allowed her eyes to close. Within moments, she was deeply asleep.

Barely daring to breathe, he brushed the dark curls from her cheek and skimmed his lips over her forehead, savoring her sweet lilac scent. For long, timeless moments he simply gazed at the pale beauty of her face, allowing the sight of her to ease the savage fear that had been gnawing at him since her disappearance.

Then, feeling ridiculously content, he pressed his lips to her throat and gave in to his own weariness.



IT WAS MIDMORNING when Gabriel awoke with a stiff neck and empty stomach to discover the rosy dawn had been replaced with threatening clouds.

Careful not to disturb his slumbering wife, he left the barn, needing to stretch his cramped muscles. And of course, there was the necessity of making a thorough search of the area. The barn was remote, but they were still in the middle of France. He would not lower his guard until they were safely returned to Devonshire.

It took a half hour to be certain there were no lurking dangers, then another half hour to bathe in the local stream before he was filling two pails with water and using a third to gather apples from a nearby orchard.

The raindrops were just beginning to fall when he stepped back into the barn. He kicked the door closed behind him, blocking out the damp as well as the distant rumble of thunder, leaving the barn shrouded in hay-scented shadows.

Not that he minded the barren surroundings, he realized with a start of surprise.

Odd for a man who had spent his entire life pampered by luxury.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that for the first time since becoming the earl there was no secretary badgering him with reports from his various estates. Or awaiting correspondence from his Man of Business. Or the endless bills that arrived each morning. Not to mention his responsibilities to his position in the House of Lords. There were no servants hovering just out of sight. No mother with her constant complaints and no brother with his selfish demands.

He was utterly alone with Talia.

And that was nothing less than paradise.

Kneeling at Talia’s side, Gabriel put the ladle he had cleaned into one of the buckets of water and set out the apples on his handkerchief. Not the finest breakfast, but it would serve for now.

He turned his head as Talia stirred, a smile curving his lips as she instinctively reached for him. She stiffened when she found nothing but empty boards, her eyes snapping open. “Gabriel?”

“I am here, little shrew,” he murmured in soothing tones. “And I come bearing gifts.”

With a blink, she struggled to a seated position, her eyes widening at the sight of apples.

“Where did you get them?”

“The apples came from the nearby orchard and the water from the stream just beyond the cottage.”

She turned her head, allowing her gaze to slide over his disheveled appearance. He smiled wryly, knowing precisely what she was seeing. His hair was still wet from the stream and finger-combed to curl against his forehead. His jaw was unshaven and his thin linen shirt hung open at the neck to reveal a shocking amount of his chest.