Page 24 of A Bride By Morning
On a breath, Gabriel leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. That single point of contact—only a brush of his lips—left him unsteady. Lydia’s breath hitched. Her skin was warm, and Gabriel found himself wishing he had kissed her on the lips again. Now that he’d tasted her, he yearned for her touch.
He cravedher.
They separated all too quickly, and Lady Derby stepped forward to embrace her niece and Gabriel. Wentworth shook Gabriel’s hand. Gabriel maintained his smile for the sake of Lydia’s aunt, but his mind was chaos. He needed space to breathe.
Gabriel gently took Lydia aside while Wentworth conferred with Lady Derby. “I’ll send my footmen with you to collect your things. I need a few minutes alone with Wentworth.”
Lydia gave Wentworth a sidelong glance. “He is someone you know from . . . your work?”
His work. Such a strange way of describing the things he’d done. Without the crown’s authorization, he’d be no better than the criminals he’d lived amongst for four years.
Gabriel forced a nod. “My former superior.”
“I see.” Her voice was quiet. “Very well, then.”
“And I imagine you wish to say goodbye to your aunt and her staff before we leave for Meadowcroft this evening.”
Surprise flared in her features. “We’re to leave so soon?”
“I don’t wish to give Medvedev the chance to attack. Any further delay in our departure puts you in danger.”
Lydia was silent, her delicate features more ashen and drawn now. Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I understand. Then yes, I’d like to say goodbye.”
Gabriel was struck by a sudden wild impulse to soothe her. He instantly rejected the sentiment. That was what real husbands did when their wives required comfort.
You’re not a real husband.
Gabriel stepped away. “I’ll see you this evening.”
After escorting Lydia and Lady Derby to their carriage, Gabriel returned to his study to find Wentworth pouring himself a brandy. “To your wedding, old man,” Wentworth said, downing its contents.
Gabriel scowled. “I’m not in the celebrating mood.”
“No?” Wentworth snorted. “Come now. She’ll make you a fine wife.”
Gabriel’s face hardened. “Her suitability as a countess was not a question, if you’ll recall.” When Wentworth just smiled, Gabriel made a faint noise. “Tell me about Medvedev. Any word on his location?”
Wentworth set down his glass, his expression somber now. When Wentworth had a mind to be charming, Gabriel almost forgot that he ran a secret department in the Home Office. “None. He and his men have gone quiet. My usual contacts haven’t heard a single stirring of activity. So watch your wife carefully at Meadowcroft. If Medvedev senses an opening, he’ll take it.”
“My estate in Surrey has enough land to occupy him with plans if he attempts to come for me there,” Gabriel said. “By then, I expect you to do your job.”
“Oh, youexpectme to?”
Gabriel scowled. “Meadowcroft is close enough to London that I can arrive by carriage within two hours. If you find Medvedev, I expect a cable.”
Wentworth considered his drink again. “I have a few people who can take Medvedev out without even being seen. Perhaps I ought to hire one of them for the assignment.”
Gabriel straightened. “This is personal for me, and you know it.”
Medvedev had been the one to take a gentleman and make him into an animal. This time, Gabriel would make sure the bastard was dead.
Wentworth gave a short nod. “As you say. And after we handle Medvedev? What then?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
His friend rolled his eyes. “Of course, you know what I mean. With your new wife.”
Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “Lydia can do what she’d like. I have twelve properties to choose from and enough money at her disposal to see her through an extended holiday on the Continent. I don’t care what she does.”
