The Virgin’s Secret

by Victoria Alexander

  “It’s not something that a woman—”

  “I am so tired of that argument!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And what am I supposed to do? I cannot—no—I will not spend the rest of my days with my nose in a book gaining knowledge I will never put to any useful purpose. It’s all very well and good for you to stand there and say I cannot do this and I cannot do that because I happened to be born female. You can do whatever you want simply because you’re a man. So you tell me, Nathanial, with the benefit of your male wisdom, what am I to do with the rest of my life?”

  “You could do what other women do.” He stared at her as if she had indeed lost her mind. “Get married and have children.”

  “No,” she said sharply. “I can’t.”

  “That’s right because you’re not like other women!” He shook his head. “You certainly can’t if you work for Rathbourne. Gabriella, your reputation will be ruined.”

  “I don’t have a reputation.”

  “You will. Do you know what people will say?”

  “Bloody hell,” she said for the first time in years, the outburst as startling to her as it was to him. Regardless, she was past reason now. She raised her chin and lied. “They’ll say what a clever, competent woman she is.”

  “They’ll say you were bought and sold!” His tone was grim. “They’ll say that you were as much an acquisition and are as much a possession as everything else in his collection. And such talk would inevitably include speculation about your personal duties with regard to Rathbourne.”

  She gasped. “There will be no personal duties!”

  “No one will believe that!”

  She shrugged. “I have never particularly cared what people have thought of me.”

  “I have always thought it absurd that we care so much about what other people think at all.” Nathanial’s gaze locked with hers. “And yet, despite what you say—which I don’t believe, by the way—you will care.”

  “All right, then.” Her voice rose. “I admit it! Yes, I know exactly what people will say. And yes, I understand it won’t be especially pleasant. And yes, it will concern me and I will care!”

  “Your reputation will be shattered!”

  “No more so than—”

  “You will be ruined!”

  “I’m already ruined!” The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she’d said. “And that is why I will never marry.”

  He stared at her. “What do you mean by ruined?”

  She widened her eyes in disbelief. “Surely you don’t need me to explain? This is difficult enough as it is.”

  Realization dawned on his face and he paused. “How ruined?”

  She choked. “I didn’t know there were degrees!”

  “Certainly there are degrees.” He huffed. “Was it a single indiscretion or were you…”

  “What? A whore in a brothel?” How could he possibly ask such a question? “Now who is insane? And furthermore it’s none of your concern!”

  “Of course it’s my concern. I want to know how many men have come before me.”

  “Before you?” She scoffed. “There has been no you. Nor will there ever be!”

  “I wouldn’t wager on it!”

  “Your confidence, Nathanial…” She strode to the door, yanked it open, and stepped through. “…is exceeded only by your arrogance.” She slammed the door behind her.

  And almost at once regretted it.

  Nineteen

  She slammed the door in his face? How dare she? How could she?

  Not that he didn’t deserve it. His heart sank. Asking just how ruined she was might not have been the wisest thing to say.

  But he’d never been in this situation before. He ran his hand through his hair. What in the name of all that was holy was a man supposed to say when the woman he loved, the woman he fully intended to marry—even if he hadn’t quite accepted it yet himself or mentioned it to her—told him she’d shared someone else’s bed? It wasn’t the kind of thing a man wanted to hear. One wanted—no, expected—to be the only man to ever share the bed of the love of his life.

  He should have said he didn’t care.

  Damnation! If he’d taken a minute to think, perhaps his brain would have come up with just that, or at least something considerably better than his mouth had. He should have said it didn’t matter to him if there had been a hundred men or just one. That no matter what had happened in her life before him, it was of no significance. He should have said the only thing that mattered was here and now and forever after.

  Blast it all, that’s what he should have said. Well, he would say it now if it wasn’t too late.

  He took a step toward the door and it swung open.

  Gabriella stepped into the room, closed the door behind her and pressed her back against it. “I am not used to running away in a cowardly manner. I find I don’t like it.” Resolve lit her eyes. “When I was fifteen, I met a boy not much older than I who, for want of a better word, seduced me. I was young and foolish. And that, Nathanial, is the degree of my ruin.”

  Relief washed through him, and guilt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

  She studied him. “I know.”

  “Why did you?”

  She shrugged, “I suppose I didn’t want you to think even worse of me than you do. Now…” She folded her arms over her chest. “…it’s your turn.”

  “My turn for what?”

  “I made any number of assumptions about you before we even met. I must confess that in most of those I have been proved wrong. However, I am fairly certain that you too are not a virgin.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “Gabriella!”

  “I simply want to know what the degree is when it comes to your own fallen status.”

  He huffed. “Men do not fall!”

  “I know, Nathanial.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “And I consider it a great pity. Another example of the inequities in this world.” She paused. “I am going to my room now. I have quite a lot to think about, what with the question”—she gestured with her left hand—“of Lord Rathbourne’s offer of employment and”—she waved in his direction with her right—“you.” With that, she nodded, turned, and swept from the room.

  He stared after her. She didn’t have to tell him about her past, and if he hadn’t been such a fool, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to do so. It was obviously something she didn’t want to discuss. He’d always considered himself fairly successful with women. Probably not as successful as Gabriella imagined but successful nonetheless. But with her, his foot was lodged firmly and permanently in his mouth and he was a complete and total idiot.

  And again he had missed the opportunity to tell her it didn’t matter. He resisted the urge to smack his hand against his forehead and started after her.

  Without warning the answer struck him and he pulled up short. She didn’t have to tell him, but she had. She trusted him! She cared what he thought! He grinned. She couldn’t live without him.

  Thank God.

  He hurried along the corridor to the main staircase. First he would tell her that he didn’t care about anything that had happened before the moment they met. He started up the stairs. What she’d done or—he snorted to himself—who she’d pretended to be was of no consequence to him. He turned into the wing that housed their rooms. Then he’d tell her he loved her. He reached her door, was about to knock, instead grabbed the handle, flung it open, and said the first thing that came to mind.

  “Did you love him?”

  She stood near the window. Her eyes widened with indignation. “What are you doing here? You can’t just come in here without my permission. And why didn’t you knock?”

  He started toward her. “I want to know if you loved him. This…this…boy. Not that it matters,” he added quickly. “I simply want to know.”

  “Very well, then.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “As I said, I was quite young. I knew nothing about love. I cannot say I know anything about l
ove now, to be honest although I do know—” She shook her head and continued. “It was exciting and dangerous. As stupid as it sounds, I didn’t even understand it was wrong. But I can say no, I was not in love with him. I’ve never been in love before. It was…” She thought for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know, a first taste perhaps, of desire or passion.”

  “A first taste?” He moved closer.

  She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

  “I’d like to discuss passion.” He stepped toward her. “And desire.”

  A flicker of panic showed in her eyes. “I’ve never talked to anyone about this, Nathanial. Never. I don’t know why I did so now.”

  “Because you trust me.” He cast her a smug smile.

  “Yes I suppose, but…” She shook her head. “Trust is a fragile thing that can be easily shattered.” She stepped back. “I do hope you don’t think you can now take advantage of me because I am—”

  “I don’t think that at all. I would never think such a thing.” Indignation sounded in his voice, and before she could bolt he caught her and pulled her into his arms. “And I resent you thinking that I would. And I further think there is an excellent possibility that you will take advantage of me.”

  “Do you indeed?” She raised a brow. “And yet it is your arms that are around me.”

  “Convenient, isn’t it?”

  “If I intended to take advantage of you.” She pushed against him in a token and ineffectual manner. “And I can’t imagine why you would think such a thing is even possible.”

  “I don’t.” He gazed into her eyes and smiled slowly. “I simply hope.”

  She stared at him and heaved a sigh of surrender. “You are so annoying,” she muttered, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He gathered her closer, slanted his lips across hers.

  Her mouth opened to his, and his tongue met hers. She tasted exactly like she smelled, of spice and heat and all the things he’d ever loved. Desire welled within him and hunger deepened his kiss. And she responded in kind, sharing his hunger, his greed, his need.

  Abruptly, she wrenched her lips from his. “This is a dreadful mistake, Nathanial.”

  “And yet it seems so right,” he murmured, his lips trailing along the side of her neck. “We are made one for the other, Gabriella. I cannot imagine why it would be a mistake, but do feel free to tell me.”

  “Because I have grown to like you, and yes, to trust you and possibly…” She sighed, and he nuzzled that lovely spot where neck met shoulder. “I am not a fool, Nathanial. Anything more between us and I shall surely lose my heart. And you will most certainly break it.”

  “Nonsense.” She could scoff all she wanted but she did indeed smell like a summer day. And he’d always loved summer.

  “There isn’t a doubt in my mind.” She pushed out of his arms and moved away. “I have never experienced heartbreak, except the kind one feels at the death of a brother. I never knew my mother. I was too young at the death of my father to understand the depth of my loss. I have always thought of myself as a person of strength, but this, you…” She waved at him. “I find it terrifying and therefore best avoided. I suspect my heart is a fragile thing.”

  “I would never hurt you.” He reached for her but she stepped out of the way.

  “You would never mean to hurt me, but you would. It’s inevitable.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “What you believe isn’t nearly as important as what I know about…the way the world works, if you will. There is no future for us.” She raised her chin. “Now, please leave.”

  “Do you really want me to go?”

  “Yes, I do.” She waved at the door. “Go. Now. Please.”

  “Very well.” He studied her for a long moment. “But this isn’t over between us, Gabriella.”

  “Of course not.” She brushed an escaped tendril of hair away from her face. “We still need to find the seal.”

  “In addition,” he said firmly, “there is much that remains unsettled. The question of Lord Rathbourne’s offer has not been resolved—”

  “Oh, I do think—”

  “Nor has the matter of your future.”

  “I daresay, my future has nothing to do with—”

  His gaze met hers directly. “I have a great deal I need to say to you, and I’m not sure this is the best time. You’re not especially rational at the moment—”

  She huffed. “I am unfailingly rational.”

  “Yes, that is yet another thing I love about you.” He grinned and left the room, leaving her staring after him with something that might have been confusion or apprehension or…hope.

  He still hadn’t told her he didn’t care about her past. He’d probably care even less when he knew all there was to know. But right now he knew the only thing that really mattered.

  She’d never been in love before. Before. What a glorious word. His grin widened.

  Until now.

  He strode down the hall with a swagger in his step he would have considered obnoxious in another man. Certainly there were problems to overcome beyond the question of the seal. First and foremost was that nonsense about Rathbourne and his ridiculous position. Still, given her education and intelligence, he could see why she might find it appealing. And then there was the question of money. With the death of her brother, it was obvious to him she didn’t have any. Aside from that apricot gown of hers, the rest of her clothes, though well cared for, were decidedly worn. Rathbourne’s offer would tempt even the most financially sound.

  Nate passed Quint’s door and heard sounds of occupation inside. He clenched his jaw. Good. His brother was back. It was past time he and Quint had a long talk, not that he thought Quint knew anything about the missing seal. Still, the queasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach with McGowan’s disclosures continued to linger.

  Nate rapped sharply on the door. A faint voice sounded from the other side. He pushed opened the door and didn’t see his brother in the sitting room that opened on one side of his bed chamber, a mirror image of his own rooms.

  “Quint?”

  “Here.” His brother sauntered out of the adjoining dressing room, half dressed, drying his face with a towel.

  Nate raised a brow. “Just now shaving for the day?”

  Quint grinned.

  Nate studied him. Quint was the only person he’d ever met who could spend two days drinking and whoring and who knew what else, and look more refreshed than tired.

  “We have to talk,” Nate said firmly.

  “Do we?” Quint tossed the towel onto a chair. “I don’t like the sound of that.” He moved to the wardrobe and perused its contents. “What do you wish to talk about, little brother?”

  “Miss Montini—”

  “Ah yes, the delectable Miss Montini.” He selected a shirt, moved to the cheval mirror, and pulled it on. Both brothers had long ago dispensed with the services of valets, even in London. “Have you kissed her yet?”

  “That’s neither here nor there and none of your concern.”

  Quint caught his brother’s eye in the mirror and raised a brow.

  “Once or twice perhaps,” Nate muttered.

  “And just a few minutes ago, no doubt.”

  Nate narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why would you say that?”

  “I heard you go into her room.” Quint chuckled. “It has been my experience that when there is a discussion between a man and a woman that involves screaming at the top of their lungs and then silence, it means either they have killed one another or fallen into each other’s arms. You don’t appear to be dead.”

  “No, well…” Nate grinned in a sheepish manner, then paused. “We weren’t screaming.”

  Quint grinned.

  “So you couldn’t have heard us.”

  Quint’s grin widened.

  “Yes, I kissed her,” Nate said, his tone harder than he had intended.

  “And you’re in love with her.”
>
  For a moment he considered denying it, but to what purpose? He drew a deep breath. “Yes, I am.”

  Quint chuckled. “I knew she would do for you.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “There’s never been anyone like her.”

  Nate ignored him. “She is equal parts intelligence and foolishness, honesty and secrets. From the moment I first saw her at Reggie’s ball,” he shook his head, “I have not been able to get her out of my mind.”

  Quint raised a brow. “So this is a permanent state?”

  “Yes it is.” Nate nodded. “Although convincing her of that…”

  “How difficult can it be? You say, ‘I love you, marry me, and I shall spend the rest of my days doing everything in my power to make you blissfully happy.’”

  Nate shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

  “Have you tried it?”

  “Admittedly, I haven’t—”

  “Then you should.”

  Nate eyed his older brother. “Should I be taking advice from a man who has never uttered such words himself?”

  “The fact that I haven’t doesn’t mean I don’t know the proper way to go about it. Besides, she already knows how you feel.”

  “How could she—”

  “Everyone in the house knows how you feel.”

  “Still.” Nate shook his head. “I don’t know that it matters.”

  “Make it matter.” Quint rolled his gaze at the ceiling. “It’s obvious she feels the same way about you.”

  Nate grinned. “I hope so.” He blew a long breath. “She has come to trust me to a certain extent but not completely. She has secrets. There is much she has not told me.”

  Quint shrugged. “We all have secrets.”

  “Yes, we do.” He studied his brother carefully, then drew a deep breath. “Did you steal her brother’s seal?”

  Quint met his gaze directly. “No.”

  “Very well,” Nate said slowly. “Let me rephrase that. Do you have Montini’s seal?”

  Quint paused for a long moment. “Not on me.”

  “Did you win it from Javier Gutierrez in a game of chance in Crete?”