Gabriel: Lord of Regrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

happy for you, my lord, and for your… for his lordship.”
    “You’re taking this well.” Too well?
    “I can hardly fathom it.” Marjorie made to rise, but Aaron kept hold of her hand. “Has he some explanation for allowing us to believe him dead?”
    Aaron laced his fingers through hers. “As usual, you ask a good question, Wife.”
    “You think I ask good questions?”
    “Yes, I do. You use your head, except with your damned idiot mother.”
    “Language, my lord.”
    They fell silent on that little normalizing exchange, until Marjorie looked down at their joined hands.
    “Yes.” Aaron divined the direction of her thoughts. “You might be free of me. Is that what you want?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Margie, you have to realize that with Gabriel reappearing, you have leverage to put this farce of a marriage behind you and snag the prize you’ve waited your entire life to marry.”
    She shook her hand free of his grasp. “Your brother is not my idea of a prize, unless he’s much changed.”
    “Then what does that make me?”
    “You are my husband.” She said this with rare heat, and Aaron had to admit to some relief. She wouldn’t toss him over without a show of loyalty, though he hardly deserved even that much.
    “I may not be,” he countered nonetheless, “because you were betrothed to Northbridge, and that was Gabriel, not my humble self.”
    “We are married .” Her voice broke on the word, and Aaron did put his arms around her. “Aaron, we are. To the world, we are the Marchioness and Marquess of Hesketh. It’s who we’re expected to be.” She bundled into him, her emotions obviously provoking an uncharacteristic display of… something. Husband and wife didn’t often touch, except for the barest civilities and in public, so Aaron let himself enjoy her fragrant, female curves in his embrace.
    God knew, it might be the last time.
    “What do you want, Margie?” He propped his chin on her temple and rubbed a slow hand over her back. It was a beautiful back, slender, strong, and graceful, and he’d never really appreciated that before.
    “I want to hear what Gabriel has to say for himself,” she said, her words muffled against Aaron’s cravat. “I want some time to put our situation in some kind of order, I want…”
    “Yes?” He let her sit up and passed her his handkerchief. “What do you want?”
    “This is confusing.” Marjorie blotted her eyes. “Who is the marquess now, when your brother is legally dead? Who votes the seat in the Lords; who has title to the properties? Whose portrait is Miss Hunt to paint?”
    Aaron tucked a lock of silky blond hair back over her ear. “That is the least of our worries. I’m more concerned with what we tell your mother.”
    “Mama.” The word was a despairing oath. “Oh, God, Mama.”
    “Mama and the entire world. You are my wife, for all legal purposes, Marjorie. I’ll not leave you to the vultures, but if Gabriel wants to put things right and have you for his marchioness, you’re going to have to tell me what you want—tell me honestly.”
    “You’re saying you’d fight for me?” She smiled, and Aaron wondered why he’d so seldom seen her smile.
    But then, he knew why.
    “I’m saying, I’m your husband,” he reiterated, “and I will act in that capacity until you tell me you’d rather I didn’t.”
    Marjorie sat a little straighter, and damn him, because he missed the feel of her in his arms. “We don’t know what Gabriel intends, your lordship. This whole discussion might be moot. He could have married some Spanish beauty and be waiting to shock us with that surprise as well. Where was he for two years while we were getting married and mourning and trying to get Hesketh set to rights?”
    “I honestly haven’t asked him that, though in truth, Margie, I don’t think Gabriel will be your most challenging issue.”
    She folded his handkerchief in her lap so the lace edges matched exactly. “If Gabriel