Bride For A Night. Rosemary Rogers

lady. Talia hid a sudden grimace.

      She wished to heavens she was back in her father’s library, forgotten among the dusty books.

      Instead she forced a sad smile and headed for the stairs. “Thank you, Mrs. Manning.”

      She allowed herself to be escorted to a charming suite that was decorated with rich blue satin wallcovers that matched the curtains and upholstery on the rosewood furniture. Along one wall a series of windows overlooked the formal gardens and the distant mews, while through the doorway she could catch sight of an equally luxurious bedroom.

      “It is not the largest apartment,” Mrs. Manning said kindly, “but I thought you might prefer a view of the garden.”

      “It is lovely,” Talia murmured, her breath catching at the sight of the exquisite bouquets of roses that were set on the carved marble chimneypiece. Turning, she laid a hand on her companion’s arm, well aware that her husband was not responsible for the considerate gesture. “I adore fresh flowers. Thank you.”

      The housekeeper cleared her throat, as if embarrassed by Talia’s display of gratitude.

      “It seemed appropriate for your wedding day.”

      Talia strolled toward the lovely view of the gardens, not surprised by the marble grotto that was larger than her aunt’s cottage in Yorkshire.

      “I am certain you are aware that I am not a typical bride. The earl has hardly made an effort to disguise the fact I am an unwanted intruder.”

      “It is no fault of your own, my lady,” the servant surprisingly claimed. Was it possible Mrs. Manning felt a measure of sympathy for the earl’s discarded bride? “His lordship is merely disappointed in Master Harry and his behavior toward you.”

      Talia was not so easily fooled, but she appreciated the woman’s kind attempt.

      “I was under the impression that Lord Ashcombe was equally averse to having me as a sister-in-law. I would have assumed that he was pleased to have me jilted.” She grimaced. “At least until my father coerced him into honoring Mr. Richardson’s promise.”

      “As to that, I suppose you shall soon enough discover that his lordship and Master Harry have a…” The housekeeper paused, searching for the appropriate word. “Thorny relationship.”

      Despite her earlier promise to treat her husband with the same disdainful lack of interest as he had displayed toward her, Talia couldn’t prevent her curiosity.

      “I did suspect as much.” She turned, watching as the servant fussed with the silver teapot set on a pier table. “It would not be easy to be a younger son.”

      “A good sight too easy, if you ask me,” the woman muttered.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      For a moment the woman hesitated. Was she debating the wisdom of sharing family gossip? Then, obviously deciding that Talia was destined to discover the Ashcombe secrets, she straightened and squarely met Talia’s curious gaze.

      “The previous earl died near ten years ago, leaving his lordship to assume the title, as well as to take responsibility for his grieving mother and younger brother.”

      Ten years ago? Talia blinked in astonishment. She had no idea.

      “He must have been very young.”

      “A week past his eighteenth birthday. Just a lad.”

      “Good heavens.”

      “Not that his lordship ever complained.” Mrs. Manning heaved a sigh. “He returned from school and shouldered his father’s duties while his mother remained in mourning and Master Harry began to fall into one scrape after another.”

      Against her will, Talia felt a stab of sympathy for the arrogant brute.

      “There was no one to assist him?”

      “The earl is not one to share his responsibility.”

      “Not particularly surprising,” Talia said in dry tones.

      Even before their farce of a wedding, Talia had sensed Gabriel’s air of isolation.

      At the time, she had imagined that his seeming need to distance himself from others had given them something in common. Now, of course, she knew that it was merely an arrogant need to control those around him.

      Just like her father.

      Mrs. Manning heaved another soulful sigh. “A pity really.”

      “Why do you say that?”

      “Perhaps if Master Harry had been expected to take his fair share of duties he would not have…”

      “Left me at the altar?”

      “Yes.” The housekeeper’s plump lips tightened with disapproval. “His lordship did attempt to put a halt to his brother’s excesses, but Lady Ashcombe always was one to indulge him. If the earl refused to pay his brother’s debts, then Master Harry would simply apply to his mother.”

      Talia frowned, rather taken back by the servant’s revealing words. Even if she was now a member of the family, it was not often a servant was willing to openly gossip about her employers.

      Not when the merest breach of confidence could see her tossed onto the streets.

      Then Talia was struck by a sudden realization.

      Mrs. Manning was clearly devoted to Gabriel. And while she might sincerely disapprove of his treatment of Talia, it was obvious she felt compelled to excuse his cruel manner.

      Perhaps she was even ridiculous enough to hope that a truce between Gabriel and his new bride could eventually be called.

      Talia swallowed a sigh.

      A futile hope, but Talia did not have the heart to inform the kindly woman that her beloved Gabriel was a coldhearted bastard who believed his wife no better than a rank title-hunter who had used her father to bully him into marriage.

      “That must have been frustrating for Lord Ashcombe,” she instead agreed.

      “Needless to say.” The older woman frowned. “In fact, six months ago he at last…”

      “Yes?”

      “He insisted that her ladyship not interfere in his attempt to force Master Harry to live within his allowance.”

      “Ah.” Talia’s lips twisted. “That explains why he accepted my father’s offer.”

      There was a brief hesitation. “Yes.”

      “And why Lord Ashcombe is so angry. He thought to teach his brother a lesson only to once again be the one to suffer the consequences.” Talia pressed a hand to her aching heart. “It is no wonder he hates me.”

      Mrs. Manning shook her head. “He is angry for the moment, but once he has accepted that you are to be his countess, I am certain that all will be well.”

      Talia swallowed a hysterical urge to laugh. She was quite certain nothing would be well again.

      “I wish I possessed your confidence,” she said dryly.

      Perhaps sensing Talia’s disbelief, the housekeeper stepped forward, her expression troubled.

      “His lordship can be a hard man in many ways,” she admitted. “When he took the title at such a tender age there were any number of unscrupulous individuals who thought to take advantage of his inexperience, including several gentlemen who had claimed to be his friend. He had no choice but to learn how to protect himself and his family from those who would exploit his naïveté. But he has a good heart and he is fiercely loyal to those he considers his responsibility.”

      Talia shied from the temptation to pity the boy who had lost his innocence at such a young age. The Earl of Ashcombe was determined to crush what little was left of her spirit. The moment