Apart like the earl and Lady Rathbourne. Through circumstances and bad choices and life-changing decisions one had no say in.
And things that could never be undone.
Thirteen
If I leave to fetch you some refreshment, will you be here when I return?” Nathanial smiled down at her and her heart fluttered.
Gabriella ignored it and favored him with an impersonal smile. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”
She was in his arms, a waltz was playing, and she had already realized that in spite of her resolve not to encourage his affections—if indeed affection was what he harbored for her, and not simply lust—this was the best Antiquities Society Ball she had ever attended. The music was somehow richer tonight, the gowns of the ladies more exquisite, even the flickering gaslight that illuminated the society’s ballroom cast an air of magic over the proceedings. In the apricot-colored gown she’d worn to Reggie’s ball, she felt like a princess in a fairy tale. In truth, if she had been a more fanciful sort of woman the entire evening would have seemed enchanted.
He laughed and pulled her a bit closer than was proper. “I expect you to be here. I allowed you to vanish from a ball once before, I shall not allow you to do so again.”
She raised a brow. “And how would you intend to stop me?”
He cast her a wicked grin.
Gabriella stared in annoyance. She had scarcely seen him at all since they’d returned from Lady Rathbourne’s the day before yesterday. She’d begged off dinner one night, claiming a headache. Last night he and his brothers had gone to the earl’s club. She heard them return late, more than a little inebriated, she suspected. Today she’d stayed in her room preparing for tonight’s ball. No one seemed to think it odd that such a thing would take an entire day. At least no one mentioned it. Nathanial had not sought her out, which was at once a relief and more than a little maddening.
She had spent some of the last few days rereading her brother’s letters. She remembered every word, as she always did, but still hoped to see them with a fresh eye. They were, of course, unchanged. The tone gradually shifting from the first to the last. From anger and rational determination to an almost giddy expectation of impending triumph and something rather less than sane. Rantings, actually, in the final letter.
“I want your promise that you will not vanish in the night,” Nathanial said.
“Very well, then, I promise.”
“Ah, but is it a promise I can trust?”
“Leaps of faith, Nathanial,” she said wryly.
He laughed, and she cast him a reluctant smile. The man was incorrigible, his persistence very nearly irresistible. As was the way he held her and gazed into her eyes and made her feel as if they were alone in the ballroom, in the world, with nothing but the music and the magic.
She and Lady Wyldewood, the earl and his sister, had come tonight in a separate carriage from Nathanial and Quinton. She had not seen Nathanial until his arrival a quarter of an hour later. There was something about putting formal attire on a man used to living in the least formal of circumstances that would make the heart of even the most resistant woman skip a beat. And the look in his eye when he saw her had very nearly taken her breath away. She suspected, in her later years, the memory of that look would be like a flower pressed in a book. Something to take out on occasion and remember and savor. She thrust the thought aside, the fragile dried blossom crumbling to dust.
“You paid no attention whatsoever to what I told you, did you?” she said with a resigned sigh.
“That nonsense about not kissing you?” He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Well, then heed my words now,” she said firmly. Not being with him every minute had strengthened her resolve, but now that she was in his arms, she found it difficult to maintain her determination. Difficult to think of anything but the warmth of his body next to hers, and the hard feel of his shoulder beneath her hand, and the vague scent of something spicy and completely masculine. Nonetheless, she mentally shook her head to clear it. This was for the best. “I have decided from this moment on we should keep our relationship on a strictly professional level. We should be colleagues, if you will.”
“Colleagues?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Colleagues.”
He laughed. “I don’t have any colleagues who look like you.”
She sniffed in distain. “My appearance is irrelevant.”
“Not to me.”
“Nathanial—”
“Nor do I have any colleagues who smell as good as you.”
“The way I smell is scarcely—”
“You smell like I imagine heaven would. Of exotic flowers and summer skies and promises left unsaid.”
“Most poetic, Nathanial,” she said coolly. “Utter nonsense, of course. Summer skies don’t smell. As for promises left unsaid…” She scoffed. “I thought we had already established I am not the sort of woman who would be swayed by such flowery sentiment.”
“No, of course not. You wish to be my colleague. Although I would be remiss in my responsibilities as a ‘colleague’ if I failed to point out,” he gazed into her eyes, “that I have never had a colleague who fit so perfectly in my arms.”
“Have you danced with many of them, then?”
He laughed.
“You are not taking this seriously.” She sighed. “This is a serious matter. I would appreciate it if you gave it serious attention.”
“Oh, but I am. I am taking it most seriously. I simply intend to ignore it.”
“We will not get anything accomplished if we—you—are continuously distracted.”
“Then, my dear Gabriella, we will not get anything accomplished.” He smiled down at her. “You are a most distracting colleague and I cannot help myself.”
“Don’t be absurd. Surely you are a stronger man than that.”
“Ah, but you have weakened me. Sapped my strength. I am the frailest of men in your presence.” He executed a complicated turn, and she followed his lead perfectly.
“Beyond that, I don’t want to be your colleague.”
“Well, what do you want?” she said before she could stop herself. Before she could realize what a dangerous question it was.
He stared at her and once again the look in his eyes stole her breath, and possibly her heart. “Everything.” His hand tightened around hers. “I want everything.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” she said in a lofty manner. This was dangerous ground. “Besides, that’s absurd.”
“How can it be absurd if you don’t know what I mean?”
“I mean…” She huffed. “I don’t know what I mean. But I do know what I want and what I don’t want.”
“Oh?” He smiled. “And what do you want?”
“I want to find the seal.”
“That goes without saying.” He nodded. “What else do you want?”
I want…
“I want you to listen to what I say.”
“You wound me deeply, Gabriella.” He shook his head. “I listen to every word.”
“And then you do precisely as you please.”
He grinned in an unrepentant manner. “But I do listen.”
“You are a stubborn creature, Mr. Harrington.”
“No more so than you. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous. We barely know each other. How can you love anything about me?”
“Oh but I do. I love your passion for justice for your brother. And the way the least thing makes you blush in a most delightful way. I love the independence of your nature and how you try to be terribly proper even when you’re considering acts that are somewhat less than legal.”
She steeled herself against the desire to melt against him. “Nonetheless, you shouldn’t use words like love unless you—”
“Mean them?” He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re absolutely right.” The music drew to a close and he escorted her off the dance floor. “Punch?”
>
That was it, then? He was to fetch her punch as though he hadn’t mentioned love? Hadn’t implied he had, well, feelings for her? Not that she wanted him to. Not that it made any difference whatsoever. No, it would only make everything more difficult.
She smiled politely. “That would be most welcome.”
He chuckled as if he had the upper hand, and she watched him walk off. He was indeed a fine figure of a man, tall and handsome and dashing. The kind of man that made women want…She sighed. That simply made women ache with a newfound need for something they couldn’t quite put their finger on. Made her want all sorts of things she could never have. That she never imagined she’d want. Most of all…him.
She glanced around the ballroom noting that whatever magic might have been here before was gone. The lights were overly bright, the gowns no more than pretty, the music only passable. It was an Antiquities Society Ball like any other. No more special today than it had been in the past.
Still, she acknowledged reluctantly, she had always loved attending this ball. Perhaps because she attended so very few. Last year she had been filled with hope here. Enrico was in an excellent mood, and she’d been optimistic that she could convince him to allow her to accompany him, to assist him in his work. She had danced very nearly every dance, even though she only knew a handful of people.
It struck her for perhaps the first time that her world was extraordinarily narrow. Limited to acquaintances she had made at the college, the older gentlemen who tended to spend their days in the society’s clubroom whose paths she crossed on her way to or from the society library, the director and his wife. She had no friends beyond Florence and Xerxes and Miriam. She’d never noticed before, but her brother had had no real friends either, at least none that she knew of. There had been no letters of condolence, no true expressions of sympathy. It was to be expected, of course. Enrico only had his work and nothing more.
Regardless, he had been a good brother. She bit her bottom lip absently. It would be the height of disloyalty to think otherwise. Still, how many times had she said that to herself? Had she reassured herself that he was a good brother? Not merely since his death, but for years before that. And if he’d never been around, if he had not quite protected her as he should have, if he had not taught her all those things someone should have taught her about proper behavior and temptations and how a single unthinking act could effect the rest of her life, well, it scarcely mattered now.
She raised her chin. Enrico was dead and she was essentially no more alone now than when he was alive. Once she found the seal, she would go on with whatever life she might manage to find. At least, she thought wryly, she was not poor.
“You appear too pensive for so grand an evening,” Florence’s voice sounded beside her.
“Do I?” Gabriella forced a light note to her voice and turned toward her hired companion and friend. She cast her a genuine smile. “I can’t imagine why. It is indeed a grand evening.”
“I thought perhaps you were thinking of last year’s ball.”
“It’s inevitable, isn’t it?” Gabriella’s gaze wandered idly around the room. As always, the crowd was an odd mixture of those who studied or searched for the treasures of the ancients, and those who provided financial support for their efforts. Society benefactors mingled with professors, archeologists chatted with board members, elderly scholars danced with titled matrons. “Last year held so much promise, so much lay before us. Enrico would present the seal, his reputation would be solidified, and who knows? Even without the other seals, he might have been able to unravel the Virgin’s Secret, find the location of the lost city, and—”
“And he would never have allowed you to come along,” Florence said in a hard tone.
“I have read everything ever written about Ambropia, not that there is very much. I have studied languages and maps and histories and—” She met Florence’s gaze. “I would have been indispensable.”
Florence stared at her, then drew a deep breath. “You would have been nothing more than you ever were to him.”
A debt to a dead father. An obligation that was easily met with little inconvenience. A means to control a fortune.
Thoughts she’d preferred for years not to think at all, and the one she’d tried to ignore since his death, throbbed in her head.
Florence’s expression softened. “You have facts to face, my dear Gabriella, but now is not the time to do so. This is an evening to put aside all thought beyond enjoyment of the moment.” Her eyes twinkled. “I suspect Mr. Harrington is having an agreeable evening. He’s scarcely let you out of his sight.”
“He’s afraid I’ll disappear if he does.”
“And will you?”
“No.” Still, wouldn’t that be the easiest way to end whatever it was happening between them? Once they had resolved the question of the seal, she could simply vanish from his life. She certainly had the money to do so.
“I daresay he wouldn’t take that well. Not given the way he looks at you.”
“Nonsense.”
Florence raised a brow.
“I don’t know what to do about him.” Gabriella shook her head.
“What do you want to do about him?”
I want…
“I don’t know,” she snapped, then sighed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s quite all right.” Florence chuckled. “I can well see why you might be confused. Mr. Harrington certainly is handsome enough. And from what Mr. Dennison has said, he seems a good sort. Honest, honorable—”
Gabriella scoffed. “Then we are obviously well-matched.”
“Your less than completely honest behavior of late is an aberration. It is not your nature.” Florence raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “I suspect a man like Mr. Harrington would understand and overlook this temporary flaw in your character.”
“Perhaps he could overlook that.” Gabriella shook her head. “But as you said, he is an honorable man. I daresay an honorable man couldn’t possibly overlook—”
“Not if you don’t give him the opportunity to do so.”
“I am…” It was hard to even say the words. Ruined. Fallen. Soiled goods.
“Gabriella, you were scarcely more than a child. You were fifteen.”
“And I should have known better.”
“Yes, you should have, and if you had been raised properly instead of being hauled around from one uncivilized place to another, pretending to be a boy, surrounded by men not substantially better than your brother, you would have known better.”
“I know better now.”
It had come as a shock to her, when she began attending school in England, how a single incident with a boy scarcely older than she would impact the rest of her life. When she realized that by allowing her own seduction—even though she had not comprehended the significance of the act at the time—she would never be an acceptable match for a decent man. When she understood that what she had done with the son of a German archeologist was the same thing she’d heard bandied about in snippets of conversation from men like her brother in lewd and vulgar terms. Shame had filled her then, and she abandoned any thoughts of love and marriage and ever finding someone to trust with her heart.
“But enough about me.” She drew a calming breath. “How is your Mr. Dennison this evening?”
“He’s not my Mr. Dennison.” Florence grinned. “Yet.”
Gabriella raised a brow. “Oh?”
“I rather thought any chance I had to marry had passed me by long ago, and I never thought I’d meet a man like Mr. Dennison. He is good and kind and clever. And he makes me feel…well, special.” Florence sighed. “As if I were the most beautiful, most clever, most special woman in the entire world. And I must confess, when he kissed me—”
“You allowed him to kiss you?”
“Allowed him? My dear child, I encouraged him.” Florence leaned toward her in a confidential manner, a smug smile on her lips. “And he did so exceptionally well.”
Gabriella laughed.
Florence looked across the room. “I sent him for refreshments and I see he is back. I should return to him.” She studied Gabriella for a moment. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Of course.” She mustered her brightest smile. “I am having nearly as lovely an evening as you. You needn’t worry about me tonight. Go back to your Mr. Dennison and have a grand time. I shall send you a note tomorrow and tell you all about my evening.”
“Are you any closer to finding the seal?”
“Probably not.” Gabriella shrugged. “But we are no farther away, at least.”
“The Verification Committee begins its meeting tomorrow.” A warning note sounded in Florence’s voice.
“And concludes in ten days.” Gabriella shook her head. “I am well aware of that.”
“You don’t have much time left.”
“I know.”
Florence paused. “Might I make a suggestion?”
Gabriella smiled. “Could I stop you?”
“If you don’t find the seal, if you cannot present it to the committee…” Florence paused and her gaze met Gabriella’s directly. “Abandon your quest. Go on with your life. Do not let this haunt you for the rest of your days.”
“Florence, I—”
“Enrico is dead. He’s gone, and you must lay him to rest. Redeeming his professional reputation will not now change the way he felt about you.” Florence laid her hand on her arm. “It will not make him love you.”
Gabriella’s eyes widened. “What an absurd thing to say. I have no doubt as to my brother’s feelings for me. There is no question in my mind whatsoever that he did indeed care for me. Why, he rescued me and provided for my home and my studies and everything.”
And did so with my money.
The unspoken charge hung in the air between them. She ruthlessly shoved it aside. It was disloyal and unfair.
“My apologies,” Florence murmured. “I don’t know what I was thinking to have said such a thing. Of course he cared for you.” She leaned close and brushed a kiss across Gabriella’s cheek. “Have a lovely time this evening, my dear. I shall see you soon.” She cast the younger woman an affectionate smile and took her leave.
The Virgin’s Secret Page 16