by L. A. Fiore
She came to the tree where she had rescued Nickie and absently looked up expecting the kite to still be there. There wasn't a kite but there was a tree house that now graced a few of the thicker branches. Quinn studied the tree house which looked to be very old. Had Nickie escaped into it or was it built later for his kids or grandkids?
She continued along and when she reached a familiar patch of woods, she stopped quite suddenly. The woods looked exactly as they had, that glorious place where she and Archer had made love the first time. Lost in her thought, she almost didn't notice she wasn't alone in the space. Gabriel stood there, looking very out of place, staring up at the tree: a tree that had the power to make a blush rise on Quinn's face. Not wishing to disturb him, she started to turn away but stopped when she heard Gabriel's deep voice from behind her, "It's beautiful here, isn't it, Quinn?"
How did he know it was her? "Yes."
He turned and looked at Quinn with such intensity that her legs again felt weak. "For some reason this spot, in particular, I find I'm quite fond of," he seemed to tease.
She felt her cheeks burn from embarrassment as Gabriel tilted his head to study her.
"Is it something I said?" he asked but there was no missing the note of humor in his address.
Quinn's voice was a bit hoarse when she replied, "No."
He stopped just in front of her and she tilted her head back to keep eye contact. She couldn't control the shiver of recognition that went though her. In that moment, in this spot, it felt as if she was looking up into Archer's face. She wanted to reach out and touch him but she didn't dare.
"I'm sorry I forced Derek on you," he said finally, "especially in light of how that all turned out. The bastard didn't even wait around to make sure you were okay before he took off to get here."
"Well, he looks out for himself so I can't say I'm all that surprised," Quinn soothed, "I am surprised that I finally got to meet you. Writing is nice but I like having a face to go with the name. Can I ask why I never met you before today?"
He looked uncomfortable but he didn't reply.
"You aren't going to tell me?" she probed, "Tell me, at least, why you started writing to me?"
He grinned which made him look almost boyish before he offered, "And ruin the mystery?"
Quinn spoke before she realized what she intended to say. "I suspect, Gabriel, it would take a hell of a lot more than that to ruin the mystery surrounding you."
She wasn't certain but she thought she saw longing wash over his features but he lowered his head before she could really discern what emotion fueled the look.
"I'll see you tonight," he started away from her but she stopped him with a question.
"Why did you come to Whispering Winds now?"
He turned his head and offered cryptically, "It was time," before he turned and continued on his way.
She couldn't help leaning up against what she now considered her favorite tree and watched him walk away. Was it coincidence that Gabriel had come to Whispering Winds now, particularly when he seemed to hold some memories that were not his own?
Quinn didn't believe in coincidences.
That night she dressed in a black sheath dress and pulled her hair up into a messy knot. She added a touch of makeup and slipped into her four-inch black sandals, then grabbed her wrap and purse and headed downstairs.
Cole wasn't there yet but Gabriel stood in the overly feminine room decorated with wallpaper covered in little pink roses and Victorian-style furniture -- not Quinn's style at all. A fire was roaring in the creamy white-wood trimmed fireplace and it was there, looking into the fire, where Gabriel stood. He was dressed in a different suit, though still black, and the collar of his shirt was peeking out in the back so she could see he had opted for a black shirt as well.
She wondered what he was thinking that had him so absorbed and then, as if she had spoken his name, he turned to her. He said nothing as he silently watched her and a smile touched his lips.
He whispered hoarsely, "You are exquisite."
She could feel herself blushing and not so much from his words, which were fabulous, but from the unguarded and heated look he was giving her. Before she could reply, he walked to her and reached for her hand.
"Cole was called away so it's only you and me tonight."
The butterflies started in her belly as her mouth grew unaccountably dry on account of his hotness. He was watching her reaction and asked, "Is that all right or would you rather cancel?"
Her voice wasn't altogether steady but her words were very sincere, "I would very much like to have dinner with you."
His only response was to tenderly kiss her hand then tuck it into his arm and lead her outside.
The Moon and Stars was dark and cozy. Gabriel and Quinn were seated at a romantic table in a private corner with their own fireplace. Their waiter handed them menus and took their drink order while bright orange flames licked up the flue.
Quinn stared at Gabriel and couldn't suppress the nagging feeling that she knew him, had always known him. Did she feel that way about him because he reminded her of Archer? Possibly. She didn't even know him. What she did know was that he had reached out to her when she had needed it most.
Suddenly Archer's vow popped into her head. I will spend the rest of my days loving you and when my time on this Earth ends I will be waiting for you. We will find each other again. Was the man she fell in love with 300 years ago somehow the man who now sat across from her? She felt a connection to Gabriel: it was that same involuntary slow burn she felt whenever she had been in the presence of Archer. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Gabriel was no longer looking at his menu but at her.
"Quinn?"
His softly spoken inquiry and the tenderness she saw looking back at her had her speaking without thought, "You're beautiful."
A slight pink tinged his cheeks and his blush touched her. Was he, too, like Archer, raised to believe that love and affection were nonsense? In that moment, she wanted to know everything about Gabriel; more than what he had shared in his letters. She wanted to know all there was to know about him. The waiter came to take their orders and to serve their wine. After he left, Quinn met Gabriel's gaze.
"Tell me about your childhood," she said.
He looked uncomfortable at the question but to her surprise he answered:
"Some twenty-odd-years ago I was a homeless kid struggling to survive the rookery in Dublin. My mother left as soon as I was born. Probably because my father was a mean and abusive drunk. The bottle finally killed him and I was alone. Living that way, wondering where your next meal was going to come from; if you were going to live out the week, the month, the year, can either break you or give you the fire you need to get out. I was the latter, determined to get out of that hell, and so I started working any job that would make me money. I'm not proud of some of the jobs I took but when you're starving you'd be surprised how survival overrules your judgment. As I grew I watched the ones I worked for, paid attention to how they conducted their businesses, listened in on meetings and negotiations. When I was big enough to fend for myself, I started my own enterprises like backroom gambling and money lending. Eventually I made enough money to pull myself out of that shady lifestyle and started investing in legitimate businesses."
"How old were you?" Quinn asked.
"My dad died when I was seven," he softly said.
"My God," she whispered as her heart broke thinking about him as a beautiful black-haired, green-eyed child of seven struggling to survive on the streets of Dublin.
He reached across the table to cover her hand with his own. "It was a long time ago and though it was hard I survived and learned lessons that have stayed with me ever since."
"And you give back." Quinn wasn't asking since she knew of Gabriel's tireless work with the homeless and underprivileged, especially children.
"Yes, I know what it's like to live in the underbelly of a big city and I know that I was lucky to ris
e up out of it, most don't."
Quinn squeezed his hand and said, "You're a good man, Gabriel."
"Not good, thankful," he replied.
Dinner was served and as they ate they chatted about silly things like their favorite music, best movies, whether they were dog or cat people. When the subject turned to the Scarcliffs and Whispering Winds, they were just being served their desserts.
"Why the interest in Whispering Winds and the Scarcliffs?" Quinn inquired.
"The current Duke is a really good friend, plus there's a lot of mystery around the family, particularly the older generations, and I've always been fascinated with mysteries. Not to mention Whispering Winds, itself. There's an undeniably romantic lure to the place and being so close to my home, I think I was just drawn to it."
Maybe drawn to it for more reasons than that but Quinn kept her silence. She had the impression that what he answered wasn't exactly all of it but she didn't press. His story wasn't that different from Archer's, abusive father and absent mother, and still he made himself into someone anyone would be proud to know.
His soft voice pulled her from her distant thoughts, "Quinn."
"Sorry, I was just thinking that I am really very glad that you and I finally met in person," she said.
A self-deprecating grin spread over his sensual mouth. "My jaded past doesn't bother you?" he joked.
"No, but what will bother me is if you don't share that cre´me brulee," she teased back.
After a thoroughly enjoyable dinner, Gabriel and Quinn walked through the village. It was the same village Quinn had come to before but it was no longer small and quaint. Quinn looked in wonder at the rather large bustling town that even had a Starbucks on the corner.
She noticed the pub, Jack O'Shea's pub, and before she could stop herself she reached for Gabriel's hand and pulled him toward the sounds of lively conversation streaming out into the night. It looked exactly as she remembered and when Jack appeared from the back, and their eyes met, there was recognition on both sides. Jack came from around the counter and approached them but his attention was only on Quinn.
"Have we met before, lass?" Jack asked.
"I think maybe so. I'm Quinn and this is Gabriel."
"I'm Jack. Welcome to my place. You came on a good night, there'll be dancing shortly."
"Perfect," Quinn replied enthusiastically.
Jack turned to go but looked at Quinn from over his shoulder and said, "We have definitely met before because I never forget a face."
Quinn watched as Jack stepped back behind the bar. He remembered her yet her accident was supposed to have taken place before she ever made it to Whispering Winds. What was stranger still that despite remembering Jack, she didn't recognize the town. She knew she was going to need to think about that but not tonight. She already had two glasses of wine so she was feeling warm and happy and was currently sitting across from a man who she was undeniably attracted to. Logic could wait for tomorrow. A few minutes later Jack returned with their drinks.
"The band is getting setup now. Hope to see you both kicking it up on the dance floor." He winked at Quinn then turned to check on a few tables and headed back to the bar.
"I haven't danced in an age."
"But you can dance?" Quinn asked.
"Yes, but I may need another one or two of these before I can actually get out there."
They continued to get to know each other. Quinn told of her love of digging, how she had known as a small child what she wanted to be when she grew up. Gabriel spoke of his fondness for horses, an interest they learned they both shared. Quinn told stories about her brothers and their youthful escapades and Gabriel reciprocated by telling her about some hair-raising adventures from his childhood.
There was a comfortable lull in their conversation and then the music started and Quinn couldn't have been more surprised to hear an excellent version of Carly Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe.
"I hate to admit it but I love this song. Are you ready to dance?" she asked standing up.
"I'll watch you," he smiled naughtily.
She didn't argue as she slipped from the booth and joined the others on the dance floor. It had been so long since she'd been dancing - the thumping of the bass line, the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the beat moving your feet - that she couldn't help throwing her head back and laughing.
An elderly gentleman offered her a dance and she didn't hesitate to let him lead her around the dance floor. He moved her around effortlessly -- his steps seamless. At one point she was being twirled out but when she came back to her partner she knew immediately it wasn't the same man. She looked up happily to find Gabriel's face.
"Watching wasn't enough," Gabriel whispered.
Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck and offered him a saucy smile, "Took you long enough."
His laughter, in response, filled the room.
A few days after her evening with Gabriel, Quinn started researching private investigators. She was certain that her experience with Archer had been real and since Derek was still sneaking around Whispering Winds, she knew in her gut that he was still up to no good. She wanted to know how Derek had been spending his time, and not just for the past several months, because she suspected there was a pattern to his behavior. And that pattern might lend insight into what he was up to now.
On her way into Stow to meet with the investigator, her mind detoured to Jack O'Shea. How was it possible that he remembered her? It sounded crazy but she had somehow gone back in time and changed the future, Whispering Winds and the village were both proof of that so how then did Jack remember her if the future was altered? She didn't have a clue but she suspected there was someone who did: Maude. Who was she really? Quinn intended to find out.
The investigator, Charles Kent, had been in the business for twenty-five years and came with some very impressive references; most notably was the case from a few months back of a missing girl. The police had all but given up but Charles dug deeper and eventually found a lead that led the cops right to the kidnappers. The young girl was now safe and sound back with her family.
A bell chimed pleasantly when she opened the door and as she walked into the waiting area, the scent of leather and burning wood filled her nose. The space was rather elegant with its hard wood floors covered by a thick Aubusson rug in muted earth tones. Queen Anne-style chairs, upholstered in a cinnamon-red silk, were situated in front of a walnut trimmed fireplace that housed a roaring fire. Plantation shutters covered the large windows and artwork, copies of the greats, were artistically arranged on the muted grayish-green walls.
There was a woman in her fifties seated at a desk. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a chignon and her pink tweed suit was Chanel. She looked up from her writing and her blue eyes were warm and friendly.
"Hello. You must be Quinn Shaughnessy," she said pleasantly.
"Yes," Quinn replied.
"I'm Simone Kent. My husband will be right with you. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?"
"No, thank you."
"Please, have a seat," Simone offered.
Quinn took a seat but she wasn't there very long before the door behind Mrs. Kent opened and out walked Charles Kent. It took Quinn a bit longer to stand than was polite because the man standing before her reminded her very much of Douglas Grant, the detective from her time in the past. Quinn knew she was staring but she couldn't help it.
"Quinn Shaughnessy. Sorry, you remind me of someone I know."
His smile was sincere as he offered, "Well, they say we all have our doubles. Charles Kent at your service. What brings you to me today?"
He led Quinn into his office as she explained her concerns about Derek, leaving out any mention of traveling through time.
Then Quinn pulled out a map of Whispering Winds and the surrounding area that she had picked up at the local souvenir shop in town. In red were four Xs, one to the north of the castle, one to the south, one to the east and the west.
"I've been
watching Derek for the past few months as he's been digging all around Whispering Winds. I know he's received permission from the family to dig but he still needed to file for the proper permits and licenses which made his digs a matter of public record. These red marks represent where he has started to dig but what's interesting is that every single dig site is exactly four kilometers from the castle."
"He's looking for something," she stated simply.
"And you think when he finds it he plans on keeping it?" Charles Kent was catching on.
"Yes," she continued, "Normally, the find would go to the Scarcliff Foundation where it would be cataloged and then put on tour, or placed in a museum. Naturally, Derek would be given the credit for the find. That was the deal the Scarcliffs agreed to with Cole Pierce, Derek and my boss. I've learned, though, that Derek has put a lot of his own money into looking for whatever treasure he seeks. I don't see him just handing it over after he has put a small fortune into finding it. I don't know if the Scarcliff Foundation is aware of Derek's shady past but I want him followed. And I'd like detailed information about his career, starting from the very beginning."
"I certainly can do that but why are you so interested?" Charles asked.
"The Scarcliff family and Whispering Winds are very important to me and I want to make sure that their interests are being protected."
"I understand," he said though he really didn't. "I'll get to work immediately and will be in touch in a few weeks."
Quinn stood across from the Scarcliff Foundation in London and watched as Derek entered with a tall, stunning blonde who seemed more interested in her surroundings than the man at her side.
Charles had called Quinn a few days ago with an update on Derek. He hadn't learned much since Derek apparently kept a very low profile and, outside of snooping around Whispering Winds, he usually spent his time in his London flat.
What Charles did find interesting was that though many valuables had already been discovered at Whispering Winds, Derek wasn't interested in any of them. This odd behavior, from an archaeologist, stirred the quiet curiosity of several people working the sites. Charles agreed with Quinn, Derek was looking for something specific.