The Virgin’s Secret

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The Virgin’s Secret Page 22

by Victoria Alexander


  Quint’s eyes narrowed. “Lucky guess, brother?”

  Nate grimaced. “Unlucky, I would say.”

  Quint heaved a sigh of surrender. “Yes, I wrested the seal away from Gutierrez.” He snorted in disgust. “The man is an idiot.”

  “The man is dangerous.”

  “So am I when necessary.” He waved at a nearby chair. “You might as well sit down. It’s a long story.”

  Nate sat in the indicated seat and stared at his brother. “Then you should begin.”

  “Very well.” He thought for a moment. “First you should know it’s not Montini’s seal.”

  “Oh?” Nate raised a brow.

  “Years ago, when I was working with Professor Ashworth, he purchased a crate in Athens of…well, mostly trash. Bits and pieces of pottery, marbles, ancient tools, that sort of thing. There were several cylinder seals in the crate as well. One caught my attention.” He met his brother’s gaze. “It looked Akkadian and was carved from greenstone.”

  Nate held his breath. “And?”

  “And, from a cursory examination it appeared to have the symbols for Ambropia and the Virgin’s Secret. However,” he clenched his jaw, “to my eternal regret, I put it back in the crate intending to study it further at a later time. I never saw it again. The crate was stolen.”

  “What did the professor say?”

  “I didn’t tell him.” Quint shook his head in disgust. “It was what he’d spent much of his life looking for. I wanted to surprise him with it. I was such a fool. I never should have let it out of my sight.”

  “You think Montini stole it?”

  “No, although I wouldn’t have put it past him. Besides, if he had stolen it then, it wouldn’t have taken him years to announce his find. I have no idea who took it originally, nor how many hands it might have passed through before it came into Montini’s possession.” He shook his head. “But I knew it was the seal I’d seen—had in my hands—the moment I saw Montini’s impression.”

  “And?” Nate prompted.

  “And.” His gaze met Nate’s without so much as a glimmer of remorse. “And I had every intention of stealing it from him.”

  Nate drew his brows together. “But you didn’t?”

  “No.” Quint blew a long breath. “I was about to, but Gutierrez did so before I could.”

  “You saw Gutierrez take the seal?”

  Quint chuckled. “He didn’t see me but I was practically right behind him. It was no secret how superstitious Montini was about his finds. I knew, I’m assuming Gutierrez knew as well. There was every reason to believe that Montini wouldn’t unwrap the cloth around the seal until it came time to present it to the Verification Committee. Which meant he wouldn’t discover the theft until then.”

  “We think Gutierrez might have been in the employ of Lord Rathbourne,” Nate said. “His lordship admitted to Gabriella that he had tried to acquire the seal.” He thought for a moment. “But why didn’t Gutierrez bring the seal to Rathbourne as soon as he had it?”

  Quint shook his head. “Who knows why a man like Gutierrez does what he does? Besides, that would have meant a trip to London, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Rathbourne isn’t the only one employing Gutierrez for less than legitimate purposes. But it worked in my favor. I watched Gutierrez carefully, waiting for the opportunity to take the seal.” He glanced at his brother. “Didn’t you wonder at the somewhat meandering path our travels have taken this past year?”

  “Not really.” Nate grimaced. “It didn’t seem out of the ordinary at the time.”

  “At any rate, my opportunity arose in Crete. From my observations of Gutierrez, I knew he was an insatiable gambler and had as well a taste for drink. He is the kind of man who does not know his own limits when it comes to spirits and thinks he is in control of his faculties when he is not.” Quint shrugged. “It was remarkably easy to get him inebriated, engage him in cards, and win the seal from him.” He chuckled. “I think it took him a few days to realize what he had lost.”

  “I heard he was furious.”

  “Yes, I suppose he was.” He paused. “I understand Montini had an encounter with him in Crete as well. Shortly after that I heard Montini had been killed, his throat slashed.”

  Nate stared. “You never mentioned that.”

  “You didn’t want me to talk about the kind of man Montini was. I assumed you wouldn’t want me mentioning how I had heard he’d died either.”

  “You could have told me. Although it scarcely matters now, I suppose. So…” Nate chose his words with care. “Where is the seal?”

  Quint hesitated for a long moment, then sighed. “It’s in the attic.”

  Nate got it his feet. “Let’s go, then.”

  “May I at least finish getting dressed?” Quint tucked his shirt into his trousers.

  “No.” Nate started toward the door.

  “Mother will not like it if she sees me without a coat,” Quint warned.

  “Then we’ll take care that she doesn’t see you.”

  Nate led the way up the stairs to the servants’ quarters and to the final flight of stairs to the attic, Quint a few steps behind him.

  “What did you intend to do with the seal? Try and find Ambropia?”

  “No,” Quint said in a tone that indicated that was all he would say on the subject.

  Nate opened the attic door and turned to his brother. “Well?”

  Quint brushed past him. “I put it in the trunk with Great-grandmother’s things.” He chuckled. “It seemed appropriate.”

  Nate trailed after him. His heart sped up with excitement. He’d give the seal to Gabriella, she’d give it to the Antiquities Society, and he could then proceed to convince her that her future from this point on was with him. And why not? After all, he’d be her hero.

  “I hid it up here the day I got home.”

  “The day of Reggie’s ball?”

  Quint nodded. He skirted around the leavings of generations of Harringtons, furniture discarded in favor of something more in style, only to be pushed farther back into the recesses of the massive attic when its replacements were in turn discarded. Paintings were stacked against the walls, trunks and crates and boxes hindered their path. He reached the trunk in question in very nearly the same spot it had occupied since they’d last played up here as children. He flipped open the lid, bent down, and fished around inside it.

  “Here it is.” Quint pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped bundle tied with a string. He pulled off the string, unwrapped the seal and stared. A moment later his wry laughter rang through the attic.

  Nate stared at him. “What do you find so amusing?”

  “Irony, dear brother. The world is full of irony. And jokes perpetrated by a god far more whimsical than I. This.” Quint thrust the bundle at him and grinned. “This is not Montini’s seal.”

  Twenty

  What do you mean this is not Montini’s seal?” Disbelief twisted Nate’s stomach.

  “Here. See for yourself.” Quint handed the seal to him. “It’s not greenstone.”

  Nate held it up to the faint light from the far off attic windows. “It’s chalcedony. And it looks…” His heart sank. “Late Assyrian.”

  “The one we’re looking for, the one I took from Gutierrez, was Akkadian, a mere fifteen hundred year difference.”

  Nate glared at his brother. “How could this happen?”

  “How would I know?” Quint snapped.

  “The seal was in your possession!” Nate narrowed his eyes. “Wasn’t it?”

  “It was when I took it from Gutierrez! I examined it thoroughly. Bloody hell.” Quint stalked back and forth across the attic. “I’ve done it again. I had it in my hands! And I lost it! Again! How could I have been so stupid? How could I have—”

  “How did you lose it?”

  Quint stopped in mid-step and glared at his brother as though he was an idiot. “I didn’t lose it.”

  “You just said—”

  “I didn’t lose it!
Somebody must have stolen it from me and substituted that one. The same way Gutierrez stole it from Montini. And someone else stole it from Ashcroft, and God knows how many other people stole it from who knows how many other people through the years. Through the centuries!” He gritted his teeth. “It’s the curse, that’s what it is.”

  Nate shook his head. “The seal isn’t cursed.”

  “No, but the city is, remember? The Curse of the Virgin’s Secret? ‘He whosoever disturbs the sleep of the Virgin’s city,’” he gestured in a wild manner, “and so on and so forth?”

  Nate scoffed. “You don’t believe in that.”

  “I’d rather believe in a curse than my own stupidity.” Quint sank down on top of a crate, rubbed his forehead and muttered more to himself than to his brother. “But I cannot believe this. I had it in my hands.”

  Nate stared. His brother’s distress was not only foreign to his nature but struck Nate as out of all proportion to the loss. They’d lost far greater treasures before. There was more here than Quint had admitted thus far. Damnation, did everyone around here have secrets but him?

  Quint’s brow furrowed in thought. “I examined the seal after I won it, then I wrapped it back up and tucked it in my bag.” He got to his feet and paced. “Every now and then I would check to make certain it was still there, but I never unwrapped it again.”

  “Could Gutierrez have taken it?”

  “It’s a definite possibility.” Quint paused and looked pointedly at his brother. “As is Montini.” He blew a long breath. “As are any number of other people.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense.” Nate shook his head. “If Montini had it, he would have mentioned it in his letters. Probably his last, given you had the seal not long before his death.”

  “One would think.”

  “His last letter…” Nate thought for a moment. “While not incoherent, it was little more than ramblings.”

  “If Montini had it, wouldn’t he have wanted to let his sister know?”

  “The more I learn of Montini, the more I hesitate to assume anything he might have done. It is a possibility, though. You said he was in Crete when you were.”

  Quint nodded.

  “Then if indeed Montini was the one who switched the seals…” Nate blew a long breath. “Where is the seal now?”

  Gabriella stared at the door that had closed behind Nathanial and finally sank down on the bed. Nathanial Harrington was a constant surprise.

  She’d never imagined that any man, upon hearing of her ruined state, would act as if it was of no real consequence. Surely he must care somewhat, as evidenced by his stupid question about the degree of her ruin. Regardless, it was probably no more than curiosity on his part. It wasn’t as if he planned to marry her. He’d said her future was still unresolved and hadn’t corrected her when she told him they had no future together. Of course not. The brothers of earls did not marry the ruined sisters of treasure hunters. It might well happen that way in fairy tales, but life was a far different matter.

  She’d fully intended to disappear from his life when their search had ended. To perhaps travel. But now Rathbourne had presented her with another possibility. And disappearing from Nathanial’s life didn’t mean she had to leave London. Besides, he would no doubt soon be off on his travels with his brother, back to those parts of the world where man had lived eons ago and left remnants of those lives behind. Their own lives would take different directions, and it was entirely likely they would never cross paths again. An awful ache welled up inside her at the thought.

  How different her life might have been. As pointless as it was to consider it now, her thoughts couldn’t help but stray to her mother and the family she had never known. She got to her feet and paced the room. It was too late. One couldn’t go back and start one’s life anew. She was who and what she was and nothing could change that.

  Despite what she’d said to Rathbourne and Nathanial, she wasn’t nearly as confident about the wisdom of accepting his lordship’s offer as she knew she sounded. There wasn’t anything Nathanial had said that hadn’t already crossed her mind. If one wished to speak in terms of degrees of ruin, being in Rathbourne’s employ would certainly put her past any hope of true respectability, even though the position would increase her stature in the rarified world of antiquities. She would be what no other woman had dared to be before. And she would pay the price. But it would give her life purpose, and put to some practical use all the knowledge she had worked so hard to acquire. And if, with the passage of the years, her heart became no different than the relics in Rathbourne’s collections, brittle and fragile and ancient, who would notice? Who would care?

  It was a distressing thought, and she brushed it from her mind. Time enough to deal with the rest of her life later. She and Nathanial still had the seal to find. She’d known from the start that recovering it would be difficult if not impossible, even if she hadn’t wished to accept it. But perhaps it was time to face the truth. They’d found no significant information as to who might have taken the seal or where it might be now. Tomorrow she would have complete access to Rathbourne’s collections and could verify for herself his claim that he didn’t have it. She blew a long breath. Other than that, she was simply out of ideas.

  Still, admitting defeat, giving up the search, would mean it was time as well to give up Nathanial. She knew that day was fast approaching. Somehow, she knew as well this longing inside her—this sense of inevitability when she looked into his eyes, the feeling of perfection when he held her in his arms—surely this was love. If not for a youthful indiscretion…

  No, it wasn’t just her ruin that kept them apart. They were from different worlds and nothing could change that. She moved to the window and gazed unseeing over the street below. Once, she had been seduced by a boy, a cursory, not especially pleasant experience that was over very nearly as soon as it had begun. Today, Rathbourne’s words and promises had seduced her as well. Now, she wanted yet another seduction.

  If she was to live the rest of her life alone, it seemed a shame not to have at least one memory to sustain her through the long years ahead. One night of passion and desire and lying in the arms of the man she loved. One night of imagining it was not the end but merely the beginning.

  One night would never be enough. But if she couldn’t have Nathanial forever, one night would have to do.

  Dinner had been an odd affair. Everyone seemed preoccupied by their own thoughts. Quint was obviously annoyed at himself for losing the seal. Gabriella had been even more reticent than usual; probably Rathbourne’s offer dwelled on her mind. Sterling was always somewhat reserved. Mother continued to study Gabriella in a thoughtful manner. And he didn’t know what his next step should be. He was certain if he did not tread warily, he would surely lose whatever hope he might have of winning Gabriella’s heart and her hand. If not for Reggie’s constant and excited chatter about the season and who she had met and the endless social activities ahead, dinner would have been a dismal and disquieting affair.

  Now, Nate paced his room, his dressing gown thrown over his nightclothes, a glass of brandy in his hand. Sterling had insisted that Quint accompany him and Reggie to a musicale that had sounded rather dreadful to everyone but his sister. Mother said she had correspondence to attend to and retired to her rooms. Gabriella refused to meet his gaze throughout dinner and then retreated to her room, claiming it had been an eventful day and she was tired. He had fully intended to retire as well but found himself too restless to even attempt to sleep.

  He hadn’t had a chance to speak privately with Gabriella, to tell her what he’d learned from Quint. In truth, he wasn’t sure exactly what he would say. He now knew who had taken the seal from her brother, and knew as well that it had been in his own brother’s possession. But where the seal was now—that was still an unanswered question. A question that might never be answered.

  And that wasn’t the only question. He took a sip of the brandy. There was still much he didn’t k
now about Gabriella. He was fairly certain now that she was indeed the brother he had met in Egypt. He was a fool not to have realized it sooner. And he was certain as well that “John,” the footman, was in truth Xerxes Muldoon. But since the Antiquities Society Ball he’d had no opportunity to question the big man. No, he’d been too busy trying to convince Gabriella of the folly of working for Lord Rathbourne. Or too busy getting the truth from his brother.

  Beyond that, he still hadn’t told her of his feelings, and in that too he wasn’t sure what to say. Did one just blurt out declarations of love? Proposals of marriage? In the back of his mind he had the most awful conviction that if he didn’t say something soon, it would be too late.

  He blew a long breath. He’d never considered himself a coward, but the fear of not having her by his side for the rest of his days lay like a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. No, it was better to put off saying anything at all than to run the risk that she didn’t share his feelings. Still, Gabriella had said that she’d never been in love before. Which did seem to indicate she was in love now. He clung to the word like a shipwrecked sailor hanging onto a floating spar.

  This was absurd, he told himself. All that was unresolved between them was driving him mad. He downed the last of his drink and set the glass beside a decanter. It needed to be settled and it needed to be settled now.

  He stalked to his door and flung it open.

  To his surprise, Gabriella stood in the corridor, a wrapper worn over her nightclothes, eyes wide, hand poised to knock.

  Twenty-one

  What are you doing here?” Nathanial asked sharply.

  At once her confidence faltered. She squared her shoulders. “I wish to…” Wish to what? Experience true seduction by a man? By him? “Talk to you.”

  “You do?” His gaze slid over her. “Dressed like that?”

  She ignored him. “You said today there was much that remained unsettled. I am here to…to settle it.”

  “It?”

 

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