by Maya Banks
The earl turned and stomped from the drawing room and seconds later they heard the front door slam heavily. Ridge could contain his laughter no longer.
He wiped at his eyes and turned back to India. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father so speechless before.”
India scowled. “It was reprehensible the way he spoke to you. I’m sorry to have interrupted, but I could stand for it no longer.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said softly. He looked down at their joined hands and slowly let hers go. “You did something I should have done long ago.”
“Make him suffer a fit of apoplexy?” she asked innocently.
He laughed again. “That too.”
She reached into the pocket of her skirts and drew out a folded piece of paper. “I thought you would be interested in this,” she said holding it out to him.
He took it but didn’t open it directly. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“It’s nice to have someone on my side,” he said, aware of the surge of satisfaction he felt at the idea of her standing up for him.
“We adventurers must stick together,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
Damn he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. Longer this time. Savoring the feel and taste of her. Her lips called to him, tempted him with their soft fullness. A man could lose himself in those lips. A woman’s lushness. Not a silly girl, but a woman full grown with more life experience than most men twice her age.
“Well? Aren’t you going to read it?”
He glanced down at the paper and quickly unfolded it. He scanned rapidly, absorbing the cryptic message. Then he looked back up at her. “So we go to San Sebastian?” Excitement pounded in his chest.
She nodded. “I assume you will handle the arrangements?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. How soon can you be ready to travel?” He turned away, his mind whirling with what needed to be done. Tomorrow he would hire a ship and purchase the necessary supplies. He glanced again at the paper in his hand.
Did Pagoria exist under the noses of the Spaniards? It seemed incomprehensible. He frowned then turned back to India. “There is nothing beyond San Sebastian written here. No direction. Surely you aren’t suggesting Pagoria exists there.”
She shook her head. “We must find Gabriel’s Bracelet in order to know the city’s location. The journal leads as far as San Sebastian. The bracelet will provide the final link.”
“And does the journal say how to find the bracelet?” he asked, his hope sinking like a ship at sea.
She slowly shook her head. “It is up to us to find it.”
He balled his fist and cursed under his breath. “The bracelet could be anywhere!”
“There is someone here in London who might can help us,” she said calmly. “He owns a book shop across town. He knows much about Pagoria.”
Ridge arched a brow. There weren’t many authorities on Pagoria, and if there was a book seller in London who was an expert on Pagoria, he would have consulted him already.
“Who is this book seller?”
A smile twisted her lips. “No one you would be acquainted with. He’s an odd sort. Keeps to himself. His name is Artemis. If it has to do with Pagoria, he will have heard of it.”
He sighed and rubbed his head which was beginning to ache vilely. “So without Gabriel’s Bracelet, we have no hope of finding the city?”
“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “But if we hope to enter the city, we must have the bracelet.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked sharply. “I saw nothing in the translation to indicate the importance of this bracelet.”
“Read it again,” she said, pointing a finger toward the middle. “Sir Roderick clearly states that Gabriel’s Bracelet is the key to the city. Without it one cannot enter.” She wasn’t about to tell him her father had also expressed the importance of the bracelet in his letter.
Ridge scanned the writing again, frowning as he took in the vague mentions of the key. “Then I suppose we should hasten to your book seller and find out what he can tell us about Gabriel’s Bracelet. We’re too close to discovery to be denied now.”
He caught her eyes, surprised not to see a glimmer of excitement in their depths. Was this all old hat to her? Surely the culmination of her life’s dream should spark more interest.
“Once we have seen the book seller you must go out and purchase whatever you may need for the voyage,” he spoke up. “Have the bill sent to my address.”
“That is very generous of you,” she said softly.
“It’s the least I can do. You’re helping me achieve something I never dared hope would come to pass.”
She glanced quickly away then looked down at her hands. “I only hope you are not disappointed, my lord.”
He lifted an eyebrow, confused by her demeanor. “Why would I be disappointed?”
She gazed back at him, her eyes troubled. “Sometimes, dreams take you places you only think you want to go.”
“What an odd statement,” he said with a chuckle. “You are so serious for someone so young.”
A small smile played about her lips. “And how young do you think me, my lord? I’d wager you aren’t much older than I am.”
He studied her thin face, seemingly overwhelmed by the largeness and expressiveness of her eyes. “I’d not think you a day over two and twenty.”
She snorted indelicately. “I am eight and twenty. Your powers of observation need honing I think.”
“All right, Miss Ashton,” he said mockingly. “If you are more astute than I, tell me. How old am I?”
Her eyes roved over him, sending peculiar tingles down his spine. She placed a hand to her mouth as if in deep thought and then her lips turned up into a smile. “Thirty. Yes. Definitely thirty.”
He blinked in surprise. “How did you guess?”
She laughed and once again he was struck by the sheer beauty of the sound. “I find that when most men reach their thirtieth year they experience a bout of restlessness and seek new adventures.”
“I fear my thirst for adventure has little to do with my advanced age,” he said dryly. “I have longed for it since I was a mere boy.”
“I used to,” she said softly. She looked away as if embarrassed by her admission.
Before he could respond, the door to the drawing room flew open and Lucinda stormed in, her face flushed with anger and her skirts whirling about her.
“How dare you!” she wailed.
He stared in stupefaction at the scene playing out before him. Had the entire world gone bloody mad? He glanced over at India who looked equally shocked.
Lucinda flew at him, her fists pounding his chest. He caught her and held her away from him as she flailed at him. “Pull yourself together!” he said sharply.
Her eyes sparked in outrage. “Is this your revenge?” she demanded. “You would ruin my marriage to Robert to soothe your pride?”
“What the devil are you going on about, Lucinda?”
Lucinda jerked away from him and turned her furious gaze on India. “Is that her?”
Ridge clenched his jaw and mentally counted to ten. “Who my guests are is none of your affair.”
She pointed an accusing finger at India. “She’s that Ashton woman isn’t she?”
“I am India Ashton,” India said calmly.
“I knew it!” she hissed.
She turned back to Ridge. “She’s the one who has you and Robert going off half-cocked to God knows where.”
His pulse pounded at his temple. “Robby asked me if he could accompany us.”
“Liar! He wouldn’t leave me. You put him up to this.”
Ridge rubbed his forehead wondering how on earth he or his brother had ever gotten mixed up with this woman. “Lucinda, I suggest you return home and discuss this with Robby. He approached me. I told him he could go after he insisted he wanted to accompany us.”<
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Her eyes screamed outrage. “He wouldn’t leave me,” she said resolutely.
He arched an eyebrow. “Are you so certain of that? Were you not here just a day ago asking me to take you back?”
A dull flush worked its way up her delicate neck and infused her cheeks. She trembled with rage and embarrassment.
“How dare you,” she said in a low voice.
He glanced over at India who had taken a sudden interest in the draperies. Damn Lucinda and her hysterical theatrics. What must India think of his family?
He straightened his stance. No matter. What she thought was inconsequential as long as she didn’t change her mind about helping him. Now if he could just be rid of Lucinda. He was realizing now why Robby was so desperate to leave the country. In his place, he may well join a monastery.
“Lucinda, I really think you should return home and talk things over with Robby. Surely it’s all just a misunderstanding. If you tell him how you feel, perhaps you two can come to an understanding.”
“There wouldn’t be a misunderstanding if you hadn’t encouraged him to take up your pursuits,” she said through clenched teeth. “Your father was right. These fantasies of yours are the mark of an imbecile.”
“Out,” he ground out, pointing his finger at the door. It was all he could not to throw her out, lady or not.
His hand shook slightly as she flounced out of the room, and he damned his reaction to her hurtful words.When she had gone, he lowered his hand and took a steadying breath.
“And to think I always longed for a home and family,” India murmured much closer to him than she had been a moment ago. “Yours makes a case for the prolonged absences adventuring brings.”
Instead of being offended by her dry comment, he found himself grinning. Then he laughed. He looked up to see warmth and concern in her gray eyes. He shook his head.
“I’m afraid my family can hardly be held up as an example of normalcy. At least I hope not,” he added hastily.
India chuckled then touched his arm. The small measure of reassurance comforted him more than he wanted to let on. That someone understood him was more than he’d ever dared imagine.
“Shall we retire?” He didn’t care to discuss the scene that had just transpired or answer the questions in India’s eyes. “We’ll visit your book seller on the morrow and see what he can tell us about Gabriel’s Bracelet.”
Chapter Seven
“Are you sure this is where his book shop is located?” Ridge asked as the carriage rolled to a stop.
India nodded though she could understand the viscount’s confusion. The buildings on the narrow street were shabby and in bad need of repair. Several had long since been vacated, the windows broken out. The shutters dangled and flapped about in the breeze sending an eerie echo down the cobblestone lane.
They descended the carriage, and India wrapped her thin cloak tighter around her. Ridge’s gaze skirted over her clothing and he frowned. A blush warmed her cheeks as embarrassment crept up her spine. She had never concerned herself with something so inconsequential as her apparel. In the places she and her father frequented, fashion certainly hadn’t mattered. But here in London, she looked no better than a street urchin.
She opened the door that housed the tiny shop, surprised when the door knob came loose in her hand. With a shrug, she shoved the door farther open with her foot and leaned her head in.
“Just bring the knob in. It’s forever coming off.”
She grinned at the familiar crotchety sounds of the older man. As she and Ridge stepped inside, she had to blink to adjust to the dim light.
After a few seconds, she was able to make out their surroundings. Shelf after shelf of books lined the walls. Dust, nearly an inch thick covered every imaginable surface, and a candle on a nearby desk provided the only source of illumination in the windowless interior.
She scanned the room. “Artemis, where are you?”
A scrape and then a shuffle and a few moments later another candle bobbed into view as an elderly man hobbled forward. “India, is that you?” he rasped.
In the vague light of the candle he carried, she could see he looked the same as she remembered. Long streaming white hair, hawkish nose and his shoulders hunched forward, making him appear several inches shorter than his actual height.
“Yes, it’s India.”
“Who is that with you?” he asked, casting a suspicious eye on Ridge.
“Allow me to introduce you to Viscount Ridgewood,” she said.
“I’m very glad to make your acquaintance,” Ridge offered politely.
Artemis sniffed and turned his gaze back on India. “What are you doing here in London? Didn’t think you would leave that country house of yours.”
She cleared her throat. “We were hoping you could help us. We’re looking for Gabriel’s Bracelet.”
Artemis paled and jerked around, glancing frantically around the room and to the still open front door. “Close the door, for land’s sake,” he said urgently.
Ridge blinked in surprise but retrieved the knob from India’s hand and walked over to replace it and shut the door. When he returned, Artemis blew out the candle he was holding and hurried toward the back of the shop.
“Well don’t just stand there,” he said impatiently.
India exchanged glances with Ridge and shrugged. The old man had always been eccentric, but his behavior was beyond odd. She followed in the direction Artemis had gone, Ridge falling in behind her.
As they walked through another door, Artemis closed it behind them and drew out a large ring of keys. He hastily locked the door then motioned them forward.
They descended a set of stairs into a narrow corridor. At the end, Artemis unlocked a series of locks on a heavy door and swung it open. Once through, he quickly bolted and fastened a whole series of latches on the door.
India shook her head in the dim light. “Where are you taking us, Artemis?”
A burst of light flared as he lit a wall sconce. He put a finger to his lips and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “They might hear us,” he whispered. “Come. The information you seek is in here.”
He walked into the small chamber lit sporadically by half a dozen half burnt candles. Books littered the floors and desk in piles. Stacks of papers covered most of the remaining surfaces, and India picked her way carefully around the mess.
Artemis settled behind his rickety desk and motioned for Ridge and India to take a seat on the stools in front. As they sat, he fixed his squinty stare on India.
“I thought you had given up the search for Pagoria.”
“So I had,” she said with a shrug. “But now I have the means to locate it.”
Artemis’ eyes flew open and he leaned forward. “You shouldn’t jest with an old man.”
“I wouldn’t jest when I know how long you have studied the city.”
Artemis leaned back expelling a long breath. “My entire life I’ve collected information, praying to discern the location so I could see it with my own eyes. And now I am too old for such a venture.”
Sadness darkened his face making him appear even older than he had a few moments prior.
“So many wondrous things just waiting to be found.”
“What sort of things?” Ridge asked.
Artemis picked up an aged book and held it up. “Have you ever read this?” he asked, looking at Ridge.
Ridge leaned forward and squinted his eyes. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and drew out his spectacles. With seeming reluctance he pulled them on and looked again at the book Artemis held.
“Ah yes, the Bible. Well, of course I’ve read it. I mean not in its entirety, but I’ve certainly read passages.”
“It is said Pagoria came before it all,” Artemis said shaking the Bible at him. “And you ask what sort of things.”
“I don’t understand,” Ridge began.
Artemis cut him off. “Can you imag
ine standing at the door to a civilization that is as old as time itself?”
“No. I suppose I can’t,” Ridge said slowly.
India leaned forward. If she didn’t get the subject back to the matter at hand, they would be treated to one of Artemis’ hour-long lectures on all the prevailing theories about Pagoria.
“What do you know about Gabriel’s Bracelet?” she prompted.
The old man looked crestfallen at his speech being thwarted. He began shuffling through the mass of papers on his desk, mumbling under his breath and throwing sheet after sheet over his shoulder.
“Aha!” he said, waving a small book in the air with flourish.
India leaned forward as he began thumbing through the pages.
“I’ve collected these over the years, sometimes having to rely on my crude ability to reproduce the likeness from drawings I have seen.”
He shoved the book forward, tapping the page with his finger.
Ridge pushed closer to the desk, his head nearly bumping India’s as they both craned to see.
A drawing of a metal circlet was rendered on the paper, what appeared to be jewels crusting the outside. The inside was smooth in appearance, but the outside edge held an intricate pattern of dips, etchings and grooves.
“There are many, but this is the one. I’m certain,” Artemis said, tapping harder on the page.
India lifted her gaze to the old man. “How can you be certain? Has anyone ever seen the bracelet?”
He made a sound of exasperation and waved a bony finger at her. “Don’t go asking me how I know. There are some things I just know. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, but I guarantee this is the bracelet you seek.”
India glanced back down at the drawing then sideways at the viscount. He was staring at Artemis as if the man was daft. She couldn’t fault Ridge for the assumption. Artemis didn’t go to great lengths to appear the extremely intelligent man she knew him to be.
And for his other gifts. She couldn’t exactly tell the viscount that Artemis was a seer. He’d likely have her committed to Bedlam. But she knew better than to argue with Artemis. He’d been right too many times.
“Very well, Artemis,” she said as she picked up the drawing. “Do you mind if I keep this?”