Bride for a Night(92)

There was a startled pause before Harry lowered his hand and studied Gabriel with an incredulous expression.

“My God. You have feelings for the wench.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “What a joke. The Earl of Ashcombe in love with his own wife.”

Gabriel shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait. He might not be prepared to label his feelings for Talia, but he had no desire to deny she had become a necessary part of his life.

“It is no joke. She is quite remarkable.” He smiled at the unexpected irony of their situation. “In fact, if your only sin was having jilted Talia and forcing me to wed her, I should be in your debt.” His smile faded to leave a bleak expression. “But we both know that what you have done puts you beyond redemption.”

Harry paced toward the window that overlooked the dark street below, his hands fisted at his sides.

“I do not need one of your sanctimonious lectures, brother. Unless you intend to offer me a means to pay off my debts, then I suggest that you return to your remarkable wife and your perfect existence.”

“You believe I can return to England and simply forget my brother has betrayed his country?”

“Why not?” Harry gave a casual lift of his shoulder. “Your precious conscience remains pure.”

Gabriel was stunned by his brother’s sheer indifference. Was he truly so far corrupted that he felt no shame whatsoever for his sins?

“Christ, do you have no concept of the damage you have wrought?” he thundered. “How many British soldiers have died because of you? How many families have been destroyed?”

“And what choice did I have?” Harry asked in sulky tones. “You refused to pay my debts and the bill collectors were becoming…troublesome.”

“Your allowance has always been more than generous, not to mention the money you were constantly demanding from mother.”

“I had a run of bad luck. It is bound to change eventually.”

Gabriel shook his head, realizing it was too late.

Too late for all of them.

His brother was beyond redemption, fully believing he had the right to do whatever he pleased, indifferent to the pain he caused others. He had no regrets at having betrayed his country and would no doubt do so again if there was money to be earned.

Which meant that Gabriel had no choice but to stop this madness.

“No, there will be no opportunity for your luck to change,” he said, a heavy sadness replacing his anger.

Perhaps sensing Gabriel’s sudden resolve, Harry pushed away from the window, a frown marring his brow.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Too often I have excused your excesses and allowed you to avoid the unpleasant repercussions of your mistakes.” Gabriel heaved a sigh. “Perhaps if I had forced you to accept responsibility you would not be so lacking in principles.”

Harry tilted his chin in typical defiance. “What do you intend to do, Gabriel? Have me drawn and quartered?”

“I intend to return you to England where you will stand trial for your crimes.”

His words were greeted with shocked silence, then Harry’s brittle laugh rang through the room.

“That is hardly amusing, brother.”

“No,” Gabriel readily agreed, “there is nothing amusing in this hellish situation.”

“You would never expose me as a traitor. It would besmirch the Ashcombe name beyond repair.”

Gabriel clenched his hands. “Since when have you given a damn about our name?”

Something perilously close to hatred darkened Harry’s eyes before he forced a callous sneer to his lips.