Read A Curse of the Heart Online
Authors: Adele Clee
A Curse of the Heart
A Curse of the Heart
Adele Clee
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be copied or reproduced in any manner without the author’s permission.
Copyright © 2015 Adele Clee
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13:
978-0-9932832-2-2
What You Desire
(excerpt)
Copyright © 2015 Adele Clee
All rights reserved.
Cover designed by
Jay Aheer
Also by Adele Clee
To Save a Sinner
A Curse of the Heart
Anything for Love Series
What You Desire
What You Propose
The Brotherhood Series
Lost to the Night
Slave to the Night
Abandoned to the Night
To Rose,
My wonderful mother and friend.
Our journey together is eternal.
With love always.
x
Chapter 1
If Rebecca Linwood knew of a spell to turn a man into a mule, she would have used it
on Gabriel Stone and then kicked his braying behind all the way around Hanover Square.
A gentleman was supposed to come to the aid of a damsel in distress, not slam the door in her face or threaten to drown her in the Thames.
Well, she was not going to give up so easily.
With a clenched fist, she hammered on the front door again.
When the loud thud failed to rouse his butler, Rebecca decided she would have to find another way to get Mr. Stone’s attention. So, with a curtsy and a friendly wave to the ogling groups of morning strollers, she plonked herself down on his front steps and contemplated her next move.
Perhaps she could scream at the top of her voice or dance an Irish jig; that would certainly attract attention. Perhaps she could accost the milkmaid and sneak in through the servants’ quarters or mug a footman. His livery and powdered wig would provide an excellent disguise.
What would it take to get the gentleman to notice her?
What would it take to drag the grumpy old bear out of his cave?
Nothing apparently.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement in the front window and turned to find her gaze locked with the gentleman in question.
He was much younger than she imagined. A scholar of the ancient world should surely have tufts of white hair sprouting out of every orifice, not the silky black locks of a Greek god. A scholar who spends most of his time huddled over his books should have pasty white skin, not the bronzed glow of an Italian Lothario. His eyes should be beady and black from hours spent reading in the dark, not wide and soulful, not the sort of warm brown that reminded her of horse chestnuts.
Of course, she expected him to be thin and scrawny as it was common knowledge scholars were often so engrossed in their studies they forgot to eat for days.
Whereas, this man’s bulging shoulders filled the width of the window.
In fact, if Gabriel Stone wasn’t so rude and ungentlemanly, she might have gone as far as to say he was handsome, in a classically rugged sort of way. In a way that may have appealed to her, had he possessed good manners.
Well, at least she had his attention.
The thought caused her chest to fill with pride, as not everyone had her level of purpose and determination. That was until he gave her a disapproving glare and, with what she imagined was a loud swish, promptly closed the drapes.
With a disgruntled huff, she folded her arms across her chest. It was better to feel affronted than to let the tears fall.
But she could not bear another night like last night.
Her teeth began to chatter at the thought.
The noises started an hour after she had gone to bed, forcing her to sit up, her terrified gaze flitting around the room, looking for the source of the mysterious sound.
When she saw the shadow of a figure forming, she knew her mind was playing its tricks — as the key to the door still hung on its black ribbon around her neck, the metal pressed flat against her skin as a comforting reminder.
The thought had not stopped her heart from racing, as this thing she feared was not bound by the usual laws of nature. A curse was not a physical being; it was not something that could be touched or reasoned with. It was nothing more than a whisper carried on a gentle breeze. A warning to those foolish enough to question its power and doubt its credibility.
Even with all her knowledge and experience, she had been foolish. She had read from the ancient Egyptian scroll as though reciting an ode while lounging in her bathtub, and now she was paying the price.
Gabriel Stone was the only person with the knowledge needed to break the evil curse. All she needed were a few mystical words of wisdom to revoke the incantation. It was not as though she wanted him to spill blood, or to dance under the moonlight wearing nothing more than a pair of deer antlers.
The sound of the front door opening interrupted her reverie, and she shot to her feet, relief coursing through her veins. Perhaps he wasn’t so cold-hearted after all.
But as Rebecca swung around she was met with the butler’s solemn face. “I have been told to remind you that the maid will be washing the steps. That if you do not move, you will find yourself swimming in a river of suds all the way down to the Thames.”
Did he think her a buffoon?
Did he think her someone who knocked on a stranger’s door for the fun of it?
She was not deaf and had heard his warning the first time. Surely, the fact she was still standing there was proof that her cause was urgent, dire.
“I just need five minutes of his time, nothing more. Five minutes and then I’ll be gone.”
A look of pity flashed in the servant’s eyes, and with a quick blink it was gone. “You are wasting both time and energy. He will not see you, Miss Linwood. Good day.”
“Please, wait.”
Rebecca stared at the closed door, all hope lost to her, her faith in humanity shattered. She was going to have to find some other way to speak to Mr. Stone.
Dragging her feet as she ambled down the street, her thoughts were drawn to the accident at her Egyptian museum, to Mr. Dempsey, the unfortunate gentleman who had dived out of the way of the flying bust of Nefertiti.
By way of an apology, she had confided in him and told him all about the ancient curse. He probably thought she was a candidate for Bedlam. But he had been polite and offered to introduce her to Mr. Stone, whom he assured her would be attending Lord Banbury’s ball. All she needed to do was don her best gown, and he would secure an invitation.
The idea left her in fits of laughter.
Thankfully, Mr. Dempsey was not offended when she explained she’d never been to a ball before and had no intention of ever doing so. She didn’t even own a gown.
Now, it looked as though she had no other choice. She would have to rummage through her mother’s things in the hope of finding something appropriate. She would have to wait for the bear to leave his cave and then she would pounce.
Chapter 2
There was only one thing on Gabriel Stone’s mind when he entered Lord Banbury’s house. Only one thing could rouse his passion and cause the blood to pump rapidly through his veins — his studies.
“I think we all know why you’re here,” Banbury chuckled as Gabriel came to greet him. “I think we know what’s dragged you out from the shadows.”
Gabriel could not recall the last time he’d been out formally and felt like a stuffed partridge all trussed up in his evening attire. Even so, he managed to force a weak smile. “Well, it’s not for the wine, whist or women.”
It was for something far more exciting.
“Good,” Banbury said, his gaze surveying the breadth of Gabriel’s shoulders, as though the vast vision before him was most certainly a mirage. “Because the gentlemen outnumber the ladies tonight, and you are just too much of a distraction.”
“Have no fear. The only thing I shall be surveying this evening is Bacanus’ parchment,” Gabriel replied in an attempt to show some interest in the conversation. He did not have time for idle chatter but refrained from being rude to his host. “Perhaps you should point me in the right direction, in case I get distracted along the way. As you say, that is the only reason I’m here.”
Banbury laughed. “Oh, I don’t want to spoil the thrill of the hunt, Stone,” he said patting Gabriel on the back. “It wouldn’t do to have you miss out on all the fun. You’ll have to go off and search for it yourself.”
Gabriel suppressed a sigh. “If I’d known that, I would have brought the hounds.”
If Banbury had lured him to the ball under a false pretext, he would drag him by his coattails all the way to London Bridge and dangle him headfirst from one of the arches.
Pushing his way through the crowded rooms, Gabriel recalled why he despised going about in Society. The feigned shrieks of laughter, the ostentatious dress, and the exaggerated mannerisms were all merely masks of deception, an illusion to lure and entice the weak and feeble-minded.
Thankfully, he was not one of them.
He understood the game but chose not to play.
Deciding the study was the most obvious place to look and discovering the door unlocked, he peered inside. He knew Banbury kept the parchment stored in a display case. If it belonged to Gabriel, he would have it locked in a vault a hundred feet below ground, surrounded by a moat of lava. But after scanning the room for the third time, he could not locate it.
Continuing down the hallway, he noticed another open door; the walls lined from floor to ceiling with leather-bound books and so he thought to try there.
There were numerous groups of people milling about, none of them interested in the wooden lectern with the glass lid. He ignored them all, his eyes fixed on his target, his heart beating louder with every step, as he had waited years for this opportunity.
Like a fine wine, he drank in those first few lines slowly and let Becanus’ words flow through him. He tried to banish every other thought from his mind, but the sound of laughter and raised voices cut through his concentration, so he could do nothing other than gaze upon its magnificence.
He was not sure how long he’d stood there, lost in a dream-like state, when he heard someone approach from behind and felt a light tap on the shoulder.
“I see you still have a morbid fascination with the dead.”
Gabriel straightened and turned to see the familiar face of Lucas Dempsey. “And you’re still creeping up on people,” he replied as he removed his spectacles and brushed his hair from his brow. “As you’re so light on your feet, perhaps you could use your talent to help me steal this. It is almost impossible to study it with all this noise and disruption, and I cannot persuade Banbury to part with it.”