[Victoria Alexander] The Virgin's Secret (Harringt(BookZZ.org) (28 page)

“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?”

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.”