The Virgin’s Secret

by Victoria Alexander

  She laughed. “Mr. McGowan, you are past trying now. I think you have succeeded.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “I find all this talk has left me parched.” He got to his feet. “May I fetch you a cup of punch?”

  “That would be lovely.” She smiled, and he took his leave. She watched him circle the room, heading toward the alcove where refreshments were arranged.

  Blast it all, she did believe him. Not that she was swayed by his flirtatious manner or his handsome face, but there was an air of honesty about him. And his manner struck her as forthright. He seemed the kind of man who would not lie well. She did not consider herself a particularly good judge of character, but there was something about McGowan that elicited trust. She could be wrong but didn’t think so.

  If she eliminated McGowan as a possibility, as well as Rathbourne—although he’d admitted he had tried to acquire the seal—that left only Gutierrez. Who may or may not have stolen it for Rathbourne, although his lordship claimed he didn’t have it. And was willing to let her view his collections to prove it. Which might be rather pointless, all things considered. Still, it would be interesting to see the seal Rathbourne said might match her brother’s, as well as his other artifacts.

  Which left only Nathanial and Quinton of those her brother suspected. She still wasn’t sure she entirely trusted Quinton, and in truth, what woman would? As for Nathanial, she’d had no choice but to trust him. Now, without quite noticing how or when it had happened, she did trust him. Certainly with her quest. Perhaps with her heart as well, although that was not possible.

  She shook her head to clear the absurd thought. Even if she had her heart to give, she would think long and hard about giving it to a man who thought she was a mere woman. Women were doing all sorts of things these days that men didn’t think they should or could. Why, hadn’t Amelia Edwards traveled Egypt for years and then written A Thousand Miles up the Nile? A book archeologists—men—found praiseworthy and most helpful in their own pursuits. Indeed, she’d read several different memoirs, written by women, that were their accounts of traveling in remote parts of the world. There was nothing mere about those women. The fact that she couldn’t think of a woman actively engaged in archeological pursuits didn’t mean there wasn’t one somewhere. Perhaps she could be the first? It was an intriguing idea. A new hope for the future, possibly to replace the one that had vanished with her brother’s death.

  I would never abandon you.

  Enrico had died, he hadn’t abandoned her. At least, not with his death. Regardless, Nathanial had no right to imply otherwise.

  And I would give up my own life before I would allow you to come to any harm.

  How could one stay angry at a man who would say things like that? Still, anger was one way to keep him at arm’s length. But with each passing day spent in his presence, she wanted to be in his arms. She wanted to be in his life for the rest of her days, and that simply was not going to happen. Even dwelling on it was absurd.

  One way or another, their time together would soon be at an end. Then she would disappear from his life. It was for the best, really. He was obviously beginning to feel some affection for her. And she…

  She shoved the thought aside.

  It scarcely mattered at the moment. The only important thing now was finding the seal. Before it was too late for her brother’s redemption. Before Nathanial’s offhand talk of what he loved about her became something more significant. Before she lost her heart to him and it was too late to save herself.

  If it wasn’t already too late.

  Seventeen

  Nate casually stepped up to the refreshment table beside McGowan.

  “Harrington,” McGowan said coolly.

  Nate nodded. “McGowan.”

  “I’m surprised to see you here. I find myself indulging in this nonsense every year, if only to make certain the society realizes I am still alive and have not abandoned my work and returned permanently to America.” McGowan raised a brow. “Yet I cannot recall the last time I saw you in attendance.”

  “I have no need to let anyone know of my continuing existence on this earth,” Nate said in a lofty manner, then grinned. “Besides, I have always found this event to be somewhat deadly in and of itself.”

  “You’re late, by the way.” McGowan helped himself to a glass of punch.

  “What do you mean, I’m late?”

  “I’ve been here for a good minute now. I expected you, oh, at least thirty seconds ago.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” Nate paused. “Why would you expect me?”

  “Why? Excellent question.” McGowan slanted him an amused glance. “Perhaps because when I encountered Miss Montini, you were right behind her in the courtyard, glaring at me. Or perhaps because you then proceeded to follow us into the ballroom, again glaring at me. Or it might be because when Miss Montini and I were dancing you continued to glare.”

  Nate scoffed. “I do not glare.”

  “Harrington, you looked at me as though I was about to steal an artifact of great worth and rare value from right under your very nose.”

  “I do not glare,” Nate muttered.

  “And you looked at her as if she was of great worth and rare value.”

  “We are…” Nate paused, then said the first thing that came to mind. “Colleagues.”

  McGowan snorted. “That’s what I thought.” He sipped his punch and studied Nate. “Do you have questions for me as well?”

  “Did she?”

  McGowan chuckled. “She did indeed. She’s very knowledgeable and quite determined.”

  “You noticed that, did you?”

  “It would have been impossible to miss.” McGowan paused for a moment. “I had the distinct impression she doesn’t realize the kind of man her brother was.”

  Nate shook his head. “I don’t think so.

  “I knew Montini for probably, oh, a dozen years or so. Not well, of course, no one knew him well. He was too…” McGowan thought for a moment. “Competitive, I think, to make friends. He didn’t really trust anyone. When I first knew him, he had a boy who traveled with him. Perhaps a brother but I’m not certain.”

  “I’ve met the brother,” Nate said.

  McGowan considered Nate closely. “Might I ask you a question?”

  Nate nodded.

  “Miss Montini asked me why her brother had shared his find with me. I think it was more than likely because I was available. He told me about the seal and showed me the impression in Cairo. I believe it had just come into his possession. That was in January of last year.” Curiosity glittered in McGowan’s eye. “I was wondering when he shared the impression with you and your brother. And why.”

  “It was a few weeks later, if I recall correctly.” McGowan’s question had already occurred to him but it wasn’t something he wished to dwell on or examine. It was somewhat disquieting to consider, but he hadn’t voiced his unease to anyone. Not to Sterling, definitely not to Gabriella, nor had he talked about it to Quint. Still, it was a minor detail. Scarcely worth mentioning. “I think he showed it to us because of my brother’s work years ago with Professor Ashworth.”

  “Isn’t Ashworth an expert on Ambropia?”

  Nate nodded. “He was Quint’s mentor once. My brother idolized him, and he taught Quint everything he knew. At some point they had a falling out. Quint never said what it was about and they went their separate ways.”

  “You think Montini just wanted to flaunt his find?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know.” Nate shrugged. “That was Montini’s nature. It might also be that, because of Quint’s history with Ashworth, Montini thought he would be more likely to recognize the validity of the seal.” Nate drew his brows together. “I have tried over and over to recall the exact details of that meeting. What was said and by whom. It seems to me Quint showed little interest in the seal.”

  “Given his background with Ashworth,” McGowan said slowly, “didn’t that strike you as odd?”

  “N
ot at the time.” In fact, he hadn’t paid much attention to Quint’s relative lack of enthusiasm for Montini’s find. It hadn’t seemed important. Now, with all that had happened, it did indeed seem more than odd. Perhaps it was time he had a long chat with his brother.

  McGowan sipped his punch and considered Nate thoughtfully. “There’s something I didn’t tell Miss Montini that might have some bearing on all this. Or it might be nothing at all.” He lowered his voice. “It was some time ago—autumn, if I recall correctly. I was in Crete, near the Kephala mound. I didn’t see him myself but I heard your brother was in the region as well.”

  “Go on.” Nate and Quinton often went their separate ways for reasons of expediency or personal interests, or simply because on occasion they preferred to travel alone. Quint more so than himself.

  “I heard a rumor—and mind you, it was nothing more than that—about a game of chance—cards, I believe. Gossip had it that your brother had won an antiquity of great value.”

  “How intriguing.”

  “The loser in that game was a Spaniard.” McGowan’s brow furrowed. “A man named—”

  “Gutierrez?”

  “Yes, that’s it. I heard Gutierrez was furious. Nasty sort, from what I know of him, and dangerous as well no doubt. He accused your brother of taking advantage of his inebriated state.” McGowan paused. “I assume you know Gutierrez often procured antiquities for Lord Rathbourne?”

  Nate nodded.

  “I heard about Montini’s death a few weeks later.” He shrugged. “As I said, I don’t know if it’s significant or of any interest at all in terms of the missing seal.”

  “Neither do I.” Nate shook his head. “I suspect it’s not, but I do appreciate it nonetheless.”

  “There’s one other thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Does Miss Montini know how her brother died?”

  “She was told he died of a fever.”

  “I see. My information is probably inaccurate then.” His gaze met Nate’s directly. “I heard he was killed. That his throat had been slit.” McGowan grimaced. “You might wish to keep that to yourself.”

  Nate nodded. “She doesn’t need to know.”

  “I’m not sure she realizes how dangerous this game is. But I thought you should know.”

  “I do appreciate your candor.”

  “Well, as I have no real way to prove my own innocence, it seemed the thing to do.”

  “You could simply be trying to steer us in another direction.”

  “I suppose I could.” McGowan grinned. “Would that I were that clever.” He filled another glass and offered it to Nate. “I was supposed to be bringing Miss Montini a glass of punch but I assume you’d prefer to do that yourself.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Nate said absently, accepting the glass, his thoughts returning to McGowan’s comments.

  Was it possible that Quint knew far more about the missing seal than he had let on? Surely not. Quint might have been many things, but he would never steal another man’s discovery for himself. No, he knew his brother better than that. But it was indeed past time to have that long chat.

  “Does she know?” McGowan asked in an offhand manner.

  Nate jerked his attention back to the American. “Does who know what?”

  “Does Miss Montini know you’re in love with her?”

  “I’m not…” Why continue to deny it when even a stranger could see it? Nate blew a long breath. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “You might want to tell her.” McGowan chuckled. “Before someone else realizes what a prize she is.”

  “I am surprised no one has noticed before now.”

  “Oh, I imagine many have noticed. She is hard not to notice. And now that her brother is dead…” McGowan paused for a long moment as if debating his words. “She did all of his research for him, you know, prepared all of his paperwork, maintained his correspondence, that sort of thing. From what I understand, he was extremely possessive of her. I saw something of that here last year. He was most intimidating toward any man who showed her the least bit of continued attention.

  “He used to have a manservant, a big, powerful sort, rather on the exotic side in appearance, who traveled with him for years. Then I heard Montini had left the man here in London as protection for his sister. To be honest, up until then I hadn’t known he had a sister. Only the boy, who I assumed had gone to London as well.”

  “I see.” The description sounded familiar. Nate narrowed his eyes. “Was his name John?”

  “No, it was Greek, I believe.” McGowan frowned. “Or possibly Irish.”

  “Xerxes Muldoon,” Nate said slowly, also known as John, no doubt. How very interesting.

  “That’s it. At any rate, now that her brother is dead, she is free.” McGowan chuckled. “I know if I were looking for a wife—”

  “I’m not looking for a wife.”

  “And that, Harrington, is exactly when you tend to find one.” McGowan nodded in Gabriella’s direction. “I would go now, if I were you. Before anyone else realizes the delectable and brilliant Miss Montini is now available.”

  Nate stared at the American. “Excellent advice, McGowan.” He grinned. “I shall take it to heart.”

  McGowan raised his glass. “See that you do.” His gaze sobered. “And do not let your guard down.”

  Nate nodded and started back toward Gabriella.

  The American had certainly been full of unexpected revelations. Most significantly, of course, about Quint. But about Montini and Gabriella as well.

  He had suspected from the first that she was not being completely honest with him about her life. As for that other brother of hers, it was more than a little odd that she wasn’t more concerned about his whereabouts. Indeed, she’d scarcely spoken of him. She’d only said they were close. As one, if he remembered right. And he looked so very much like her…

  She stood up when he approached. “Your mother says we should be leaving now.”

  “I’m surprised Sterling agreed to stay this long,” he murmured, and handed her the punch. “McGowan sends his regrets along with refreshment.” She was exactly the same height as the brother who had accosted him in Egypt. The brother she rarely mentioned.

  “How very kind.” She sipped at the punch.

  And her eyes, that unique deep blue, could of course run in the family. Her brother had worn a hat pulled low, but Nate had noticed his eyes. They were the same in hue and shape.

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  And the same fire flashed in them when angered.

  “Am I?” he said coolly.

  “Yes you are.” Her brows drew together.

  What he was thinking was absurd.

  She huffed. “It’s most disconcerting.”

  If he’d had the same thought about another woman, it would have been ridiculous.

  “My apologies.”

  Absolutely impossible.

  Unease shaded her eyes. “Nathanial, what are you thinking?”

  But when it came to Gabriella, it wasn’t the least bit improbable. Stupid and reckless perhaps but not out of the realm of possibility.

  “Nathanial?”

  It was exactly the sort of impulsive, dangerous, foolish thing she would have done.

  “It’s nothing of any importance.” He plucked the glass from her hand and set it on a chair, then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and started toward the door. “I was just thinking about family resemblances and how very much you look like your brother.”

  “Really.” She shrugged. “I never noticed any similarity at all.”

  Indeed she looked nothing like Enrico Montini, the only brother Nate now suspected she had. And he knew exactly how to confirm it.

  Eighteen

  Lord Rathbourne will be with you shortly.” His lordship’s stern-faced butler nodded a bow and took his leave, closing the library doors behind him.

  Gabriella resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot nervously, althoug
h she would have happily slit her own wrists before letting Nathanial know she was the least bit apprehensive. He looked somewhat uneasy himself. He hadn’t wanted to come; no, in truth he hadn’t wanted her to come. And he certainly hadn’t hidden his feelings.

  They had discussed it yesterday morning, which was a continuation of the discussion they’d had the night before, upon their arrival home from the ball. And they’d been discussing it in the afternoon when the note arrived from Lord Rathbourne inviting them here this morning. She suspected there were any number of people in the household, Xerxes included, who might have called their exchanges something more akin to argument than discussion. But arguing with Nathanial kept him at arm’s length, which was exactly where she wanted him. No—not where she wanted him—where she needed him.

  Aside from their differing opinions regarding Lord Rathbourne, Nathanial seemed somewhat cross overall. She had caught him studying her when he thought she wasn’t looking, as if to determine the answer to a question he hadn’t asked. Or to learn her secrets. It was most unnerving. In addition, it seemed that Quinton had vanished, which apparently wasn’t at all unusual. Xerxes heard from the other servants that Master Quinton often disappeared for days at a time, which everyone attributed to dissolute living, to drink and gambling and women. Regardless, Nathanial was obviously not pleased by his brother’s absence.

  “Good day, Miss Montini.” Lord Rathbourne stepped into the room and crossed the floor to her, nodding at Nathanial in passing. “Mr. Harrington.”

  “Good day, sir,” Nathanial said in a remote but nonetheless polite manner.

  “Miss Montini.” Lord Rathbourne took her hand and raised it to his lips. His gaze bored into hers, and a chill ran up her spine. “You have no idea how delighted I am that you could join me today.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, my lord.” Gabriella cast him a reserved smile and pulled her hand from his. “Will Lady Rathbourne be joining us?”

  “She has already returned to the county,” he said in a dismissive manner. “She has no interest in my collections, but I am hoping you will find my acquisitions so intriguing you will not hesitate to accept my offer of employment.”