Bride for a Night(85)

“He desires you to be safe.”

She ignored the edge in his voice that revealed he would rather toss her to the wolves and go in search of his friend. What did she care what he thought of her so long as he assisted her in finding Gabriel?

“He is not thinking clearly at the moment.”


“Granted, but I cannot go against his wishes.”

“But you already have,” she boldly reminded him. “Gabriel told me that he ordered you to return to En gland and yet you remained.”

His jaw jutted in a stubborn motion. “I am at liberty to risk my own life, but I sense that Gabriel would never forgive me if I risked yours.”

Tossing her hands in the air, she turned away from the aggravating brute.

“This is absurd.”

She had barely taken a step when Lord Rothwell clamped a hand on her upper arm and whirled her about.

“Where are you going?”

“If you will not order the captain to stop this nonsense, then I will.”

“He will not listen.”

She stiffened her spine. “I am the Countess of Ashcombe, I will make him listen.”

His brow furrowed as he regarded her with an odd intensity. Almost as if he had never seen her before.

“You may be the countess, but the servants will not disobey Gabriel.”

Her lips thinned at the absolute certainty in his voice. She did not doubt for a moment that he spoke the truth. After all, he was obviously well acquainted with the crew.

“Typical,” she snapped. “I knew a title would prove to be as worthless as it was pretentious.”

“If that was true you would never have trapped my friend into marriage.”

“I had nothing to do with—” She bit off her words in frustration, slapping away his hand so she could bend down to tug off her boots. “Believe what you will. There is no time.”

She heard him mutter a curse as she tossed aside the boots and reached beneath her skirt to pull off her stockings. Her father had insisted that she learn to swim at an early age. She was certain she had not forgotten how.

What she intended to do after she reached the shore without shoes or stockings was something she would decide once she was there.

“Wait,” Lord Rothwell growled. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Lifting her head she allowed him to see the staunch determination etched on her face.

“I will not allow Gabriel to travel to Calais alone,” she stormed.

He swore, glancing toward the shore that was becoming ever more distant.

“Is he in danger?”

“Perhaps not physical danger,” she admitted, “but he will have need of me.”

He returned his attention to her, his golden gaze sweeping over her pale face.

“You intend to swim back to shore?”

“If necessary.”

He stood utterly motionless, clearly torn between his pledge to Gabriel and his instincts to rush to the rescue.

At last, he gave a shake of his head and swept past Talia with a fierce sense of purpose.

“Captain…”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN



LIKE MANY HARBOR TOWNS Calais had endured its share of invasions.

Julius Caesar had occupied the city to launch his invasion of England. The British King Edward III had laid siege for nearly a year in 1346, starving the city into surrender. And the Spanish had claimed ownership in the late 1500s. But while each conquest had left its mark, the city remained a simple fishing village at heart, with its own unique charm.