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The Virgin’s Secret

Page 28

by Victoria Alexander


  Her eyes widened. “My presentation?”

  He raised a brow. “Who else?”

  “I hadn’t considered that. I really hadn’t thought beyond recovering the seal. But of course.” She lifted her chin and cast him a satisfied grin. “It will be my presentation.”

  “You are going to be a handful,” he said under his breath.

  “What?”

  “I said we should probably get the impression while we’re here.”

  “That’s not what you said.”

  “Nonetheless, we should still get the impression.”

  “I’m afraid that’s a bit of a problem,” she said slowly.

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t actually have the impression.”

  “But you said—”

  “Yes, well.” She winced. “It sounded so good at the time. But I am confident it’s in the house. Somewhere.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are there any other lies you wish to confess?”

  “Not at the moment,” she said in a somber manner, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. “But if something comes to mind I shall be sure to tell you. Although didn’t you say you knew everything?”

  “Hmph.”

  He led the way into the hall and stopped. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. There was a distinct odor of smoke. “Do you smell that?”

  “What?” She stopped and her eyes grew wide. “Smoke? But how?”

  “It doesn’t matter. We have to go.” He grabbed her hand and started for the stairs. Smoke drifted up from the lower floors. “Is there a back stairway?”

  She stared at the smoke now billowing up the stairs. “My house is on fire!”

  “A back stair, Gabriella?”

  “My house…” She shook her head as if to clear it. “This way.”

  She dashed toward a door at the opposite end of the hall and reached for it. He yanked her back and carefully placed his hand on the door. It was cool. He pushed it open. “I have the lamp, I’ll lead the way. Grab onto my coat.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so!” he snapped, and struggled for calm. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he did not keep his wits about him. “Because if I can feel you holding on, I’ll know you’re still with me.”

  “Very well.” Fear sounded in her voice.

  He quickly led the way down the two flights to the ground floor. There was some smoke but not much. The fire was obviously in the front of the house. Again he paused to feel the door before pushing it open. The moment he did, acrid smoke billowed around him and he choked. “Is there a back way?”

  She coughed. “Yes.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the back of the house, into a room that appeared to be a scullery, to a door on the outside wall. She fumbled with the key. Panic rang in her voice. “I can’t get it open!”

  “Move!” He shoved her aside, set the lamp down, took aim and kicked the door with the flat of his foot. He tried again and the door gave somewhat. Smoke was filling the room, the lamp no longer any use. He braced himself and tried again. The door splintered. He grasped the door and yanked it free. Grabbing Gabriella around the waist, he hauled her out of the building. They stumbled a few steps away from the house, both struggling to catch their breath.

  She gasped for air. “Come on.”

  She sprinted across a small garden to a back gate with him right behind her. The gate opened to a narrow lane. She ran down it, turned into the street and circled to the front of the house, Nate close on her heels. She skidded to a stop and stared.

  The front door was wide open and smoke poured out. Flames could be seen in one window. Gabriella stared in shocked disbelief.

  “Bloody hell.” Quint’s voice sounded behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” Nate snapped.

  Quint stared at the burning building. “I heard you in the hall. I thought you might need help. So I woke Muldoon. We just got here.”

  Gabriella gasped. “My letters!”

  Nate peered around his brother. “Where is Muldoon?”

  “He ran for the fire brigade as soon as we realized where the smoke was coming from.” Quint’s gaze shifted to a point behind his brother. “You might want to stop her.”

  Nate swiveled to see Gabriella dashing back to the house and through the open door.

  “Damnation.” He raced for the door, Quint no more than a step behind.

  “Here.” Quint thrust a handkerchief at him. “Cover your nose and mouth and for God’s sake be careful.”

  Nate nodded, clutched the handkerchief to his face and stepped inside. Flames roared at the foot of the stairs, a good six feet or so from the front door. The fire had spread into a parlor to the right. Dear God, where was she?

  “Gabriella!” he screamed, praying to be heard above the din of the flames. Fear for her clutched at his heart. The smoke was so thick, if not for the light of the fire itself he wouldn’t have been able to see his hand in front of his face.

  “Here.” She staggered out of parlor, choking and gasping for breath. He started toward her. A loud crack ripped through the air. He reached for her. Her terror-filled gaze met his. A huge chunk of the ceiling collapsed, missing him by mere inches. Gabriella crumpled to the floor beneath it.

  His heart lodged in his throat and he grabbed pieces of the ceiling and threw them aside. At once Quint was by his side. It took a moment or perhaps a lifetime to free her. Nate pulled her from the wreckage with his brother’s help, scooped her into his arms, and the two men made their escape. A split second after they stepped out of the house, the rest of the ceiling collapsed and flames licked at their backs. They staggered away from the building and Nate noted the fire brigade had arrived.

  Muldoon rushed up to them. “Is she…” Fear flickered in the other man’s eyes.

  “No.” Nate could see the faint rise and fall of Gabriella’s chest with her labored breathing. “But we have to get her home.”

  Quint nodded. “We have a carriage.”

  They settled in the carriage. Quint sent Muldoon to fetch their family physician to meet them at Harrington House. Nate had no doubt that despite the lateness of the hour, the big man would not take no for an answer.

  He cradled Gabriella in his arms on the endless ride that probably took no time at all. There was a cut high on her temple but she didn’t appear to have suffered any burns. She still clutched what looked like a packet of letters in her hand. Even though he knew head wounds tended to bleed a lot, there still seemed to be an inordinate amount of blood. And he did the only thing it was possible to do.

  “Dear Lord,” he prayed. “Don’t let me lose her.”

  He had lost all sense of time.

  Vaguely, Nate noted that the sun had risen. He wasn’t sure how long he had sat here in the corridor in his mother’s wing of the house. She had insisted they put Gabriella in one of the larger suites. Now she was in Gabriella’s room with the physician while he waited. Fear had settled in a heavy lump in the pit of his stomach.

  But as long as he had been there, Quint and Sterling remained by his side. As had Muldoon. Not appropriate perhaps for a footman, but Muldoon was as much a part of Gabriella’s family as any blood relation.

  “Is that what she went back in the house for?” Quint glanced at the packet of letters on Nate’s lap.

  He nodded.

  “What are they?” Sterling asked.

  “I have no idea.” Nate shook his head. “But not worth her life.”

  “They are to her,” Muldoon said quietly. “Although she’d probably deny it. They’re letters to her mother. She found them after her brother’s death.” His expression hardened. “He never gave them to her.”

  Nate had never hated anyone in his life before, but at the moment he would have gladly slit Enrico Montini’s throat himself.

  “Do you have any idea what happened?” Sterling asked. “How the fire started?”

  “There was someone else in the house. I thought I heard som
ething but I wasn’t sure.” He blew a long breath. “I should have paid more attention. I should have…” I should have stopped her from going back into that house. “I don’t know if the fire was deliberate or an accident, and I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”

  “Do you think it was someone looking for the seal?” Quint said.

  “Or possibly the impression that would prove the veracity of the seal. Without the impression, anyone could claim discovery of the seal.” Nate shook his head. “But I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care.”

  Quint paused. “Did you find it?”

  “Find what?” Sterling looked from one brother to the other, then realization dawned on his face. “The seal? The Montini seal?”

  “We did.” Nate could still feel it in his pocket.

  “Well that’s…” Sterling searched for the right word. “Good?”

  Nate’s gaze met his older brother’s.

  Sterling’s voice softened. “She’ll be fine, Nate.”

  “Of course she will,” Quint added staunchly.

  The door to Gabriella’s room opened and Dr. Crenshaw stepped out, a grim look on his face, followed by Mother. Nate jumped to this feet, the letters falling to the floor. “How is she?”

  “The cut on her head was superficial. I doubt it will even leave a scar. However…” The doctor paused. “Her lungs are somewhat congested, as would be expected, given what she’s been through. And she has a nasty bump on her head that concerns me.”

  Nate resisted the urge to snap at the man. “But will she be all right?”

  “Quite honestly, Nathanial, it’s too early to say for certain. I shall be back tomorrow morning. We should know a great deal more then, one way or the other.” He turned to Mother. “Someone should stay with her. Send for me if there are any changes.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Mother signaled to Andrews to escort the doctor out. “I shall stay with her.”

  “No.” Panic gripped him at the thought of her waking up without him there. Or him not being there and Gabriella never waking up at all. “I’ll stay with her.”

  “Darling.” Sympathy shone in his mother’s eyes. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

  “Let him, Mother,” Sterling said.

  Mother cast a quelling glance at Sterling then turned back to her youngest son. “Nathanial, you smell strongly of smoke. It’s quite overpowering. As her house has just burned, I daresay that’s not the aroma she should awaken to. In addition, you are exhausted. You cannot be of any help to her in this state. I want you to bathe and sleep, then you may sit with her for as long as you wish.”

  He didn’t like it but knew she was probably right. “Very well.”

  She aimed a pointed glance at Quinton. “You smell no better than he does.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Quinton murmured.

  “As for you.” She addressed Muldoon. “I am aware of your connection to Miss Montini. You are welcome to stay outside her room as long as you like, and we will inform you at once if there’s any change at all.”

  “I do appreciate it, ma’am.” Muldoon nodded.

  “There is nothing any of us can do at the moment but wait. Nathanial.” Mother laid her hand on his arm. “We have known Dr. Crenshaw for many years. He has cared for everyone in this family at one time or another. I trust him completely and I can tell you he is most optimistic.”

  Nate smiled wryly. “That was optimistic?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “Gabriella will be fine.” She turned to go back into Gabriella’s room then stopped and knelt down to pick up the packet of letters. “What’s this?”

  “It’s why she went back into the house,” Nate said. “They’re letters written to her mother. Gabriella found them after her brother’s death.” His tone was grim. “He kept them from her.”

  “One can only hope he is burning in Hell.” Mother turned the packet over in her hands. “One should do something about this.”

  “As Montini is dead, I believe someone has,” Quint said wryly.

  “Yes, of course,” Mother murmured, and glanced pointedly at Nate. “Now, go.”

  Nate quickly bathed and donned fresh clothes, but he had no intention of staying away from Gabriella. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t abandon her. He returned within an hour to sit by the side of her bed. Mother joined him for a while, and Muldoon stayed outside her door as well. He was grateful to know the older man was there.

  The food his mother sent up for him later, as he kept his vigil, sat uneaten through the long hours of the day and into the night. Occasionally, in spite of himself, he dozed, but those brief moments of sleep were filled with images of Gabriella dashing back into the house, flames licking at the stairs, and the terror in her blue eyes.

  So he watched her too still form in the bed. And he listened to her labored breathing and thought it eased somewhat through the night, but he was too weary to know if he had heard some improvement or just hoped he had.

  And he thought of all the things he loved about her and how she’d said that she loved him and hadn’t asked for anything in return. And he thought of all the things he hadn’t said to her, all the things he’d hadn’t had a chance to say.

  And prayed it wasn’t too late to say them.

  Twenty-seven

  Dr. Crenshaw stepped out of Gabriella’s room the next morning, his expression as grim as ever.

  Muldoon and Nate jumped to their feet. “Well?”

  The physician met Nate’s gaze directly. “She is much improved. Her lungs sound almost clear, although she will cough a bit for the next few days. Fortunately, Miss Montini is a very strong and healthy young woman.”

  “And her head?” Nate asked.

  “She will have a dreadful headache but her eyes look good. I am confident she will be fine within a few days.”

  Relief washed through Nate, and Muldoon heaved an audible sigh.

  “I have given her something to ease the pain and instructions to continue its use. It will also help her sleep.” The doctor’s firm gaze pinned Nate’s. “What she needs now is rest. No excitement of any kind, and the fewer visitors the better.” Dr. Crenshaw narrowed his eyes. “I have known you all of your life, Nathanial Harrington, and it is obvious to me that you care for this young woman. The body has a way of healing itself. Rest and sleep are the best things for her. Your mother or the presence of another female would be acceptable, but I would strongly advise that you limit your visits.”

  “But I—”

  “I suspect you would provide excitement she does not need. Leave her be, Nathanial, for now. However,” the doctor’s expression softened, “she is awake now, although probably only for a few minutes. I should warn you, the medication will make it difficult for her to concentrate and she may not make much sense. You may see her now, but for no more than a minute,” he added firmly.

  “Thank you.” Nate started into Gabriella’s room but Muldoon stopped him.

  “My wife and Miss Henry are in the country. I didn’t want to fetch them until we knew Miss Montini would recover. Now, I must go, but we’ll return as quickly as possible.” The big man’s gaze locked with Nate’s. “Take care of her.”

  “Always,” he said, the conviction in his voice straight from his heart.

  Mother stepped out of Gabriella’s room. “Only a minute, remember.”

  Nate nodded, walked into her room and directly to her bedside. Gauze covered the cut on her head, her face was deathly pale, and her blue eyes seemed enormous. Still, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  She cast him a weak smile. “Are you going to chastise me?”

  “No.” He sat down beside her bed and took her hand in his. “Not today.”

  “Oh dear.” She sighed. “Then I must be dying.”

  “You’re not dying.” His voice was rough with emotion. “You shall live a very long time. With me.”

  “How very nice.” Her eyelids were heavy, her voice soft. “I’m so tired. And so sorry.


  He smiled. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  “You could have been hurt. I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt.” Her eyes drifted closed, then opened, but it was obviously a struggle for her. “But I found it, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.” He leaned closer and gently kissed her forehead. “You found the seal.”

  “No.” The word was no more than a sigh, and her eyes drifted closed again. “I found the letters,” she murmured, and was again asleep.

  He watched her a few moments, then quietly took his leave. He paused outside her door and blew a long breath. Staying away from her now might be the hardest part of any of this. But if that’s what was necessary, that’s what he would do.

  His mother hooked her arm through his and walked him down the hall toward the stairs. “I have an idea, Nathanial, and I’m not certain you’re going to like it.”

  He ran a weary hand through his hair. “What is it, Mother?”

  “I think it would be best—”

  “Where is she?” A short blond woman with a determined air and fire in her eyes appeared at the top of the stairs, Mr. Dennison a step behind her.

  “I tried to stop her,” Mr. Dennison said in a helpless tone. He’d never known Dennison to sound the least bit helpless before.

  “Where is she? What have you done with her?” the woman demanded.

  “Lady Wyldewood, Mr. Harrington, this is Miss Henry,” Dennison said.

  “Of course.” Mother smiled. “I have been expecting you. Miss Montini is asleep now but the doctor assures us she will be quite all right in no time.”

  “Thank God.” Miss Henry’s expression crumbled. “That’s what Mr. Muldoon said, but regardless, I have to see for myself. We met him a few minutes ago right outside the house. We came here as soon as we arrived home and discovered—” She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “As soon as we saw our house was in ruins.”

  “You poor dear.” Mother took her arm and steered her into a sitting room off the hall. “We have a great deal to tell you, not all of it pleasant, and the hallway is not the place to do it.” She glanced at Nate. “Coming?” It was a command more than a question.

 

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