er.”
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.”