[Victoria Alexander] The Virgin's Secret (Harringt(BookZZ.org) (38 page)

apologies, Millicent, but I don‟t understand why you‟re here.”

“Get on with it, Mother,” Nate said under his breath.

The boat from France had, of course, been late. Not that he hadn‟t expected exactly that.

Regardless of the arguments made by his mother and Miss Henry, he knew this was a bad idea.

Still, he and Quint had the presentation well in hand, and he‟d made other arrangements as a precautionary measure. Mother was right about one thing, though. While Gabriella had

awakened briefly a few times yesterday, barely long enough to take the medication the doctor left for her, she had gone right back to sleep. They might indeed return before she realized he was gone.

“I have something of great importance to tell you that simply could not wait,” Mother said.

“There‟s a café I noted at the end of the pier. We can talk there.”

“Oh dear.” Lady Danworthy‟s eyes widened. “It‟s something dreadful, isn‟t it?”

“No, dearest, it‟s something quite wonderful.”

Lady Danworthy studied Mother for a long moment. “Millicent, I have known you for much of

my life. If you say this is important, then it is.” She turned and gestured at two women who stood some distance away, surrounded by several servants amidst a virtual sea of baggage. Nate

winced at the sight. Oh, wouldn‟t that make all this easier?

“Nathanial,” Mother said when the two women drew near. “You remember Lady Danworthy‟s

sister, Mrs. Delong? And of course you know Emma.”

“Although we haven‟t seen one another for years.” Emma Carpenter held out her hand to Nate.

“How are you, Nathanial?”

“Very well, thank you.” He could barely choke out the words. He took her hand as much to give himself a moment to regain his composure as anything else. No wonder Gabriella seemed

familiar to him when they first met. It wasn‟t merely that he had met her brother in Egypt, but aside from differences in the shade of their hair and eyes, and a slight difference in the shape of their mouths, Emma and Gabriella could have passed for twins. “You are as lovely as ever.”

She laughed. “And you are more charming than ever, I see.”

“Nathanial.” His mother raised a brow. “Time is of the essence, remember?”

“Of course.” Within a quarter of an hour he had arranged for the servants to stay with the luggage, settled the ladies in a café with an excellent view of the channel, and resisted the urge to check his watch more than twice.

“Well?” Lady Danworthy said. “I am dying of curiosity. What is this matter of great

importance?”

“Caroline.” Mother took her hand. “We have some news for you about Gabriella.”

“Gabriella?” Confusion crossed Lady Danworthy‟s face, then she sucked in a sharp breath and her free hand reached for her sister‟s. “Gabriella, our niece?”

“Yes, Gabriella Montini.” Mother paused, and Nate wasn‟t sure if it was to find the right words or prolong the drama of the moment, although it did seem to him dramatic enough. “Caroline, she‟s alive.”

Mrs. Delong gasped. “What do you mean, she‟s alive?”

“I mean she‟s not dead. She‟s never been dead.” Mother huffed. “Goodness, of all the things I have to explain I didn‟t think alive would be among them.”

Lady Danworthy stared. “But we were told—”

“Yes, well that was a lie.” Mother‟s expression hardened. “Gabriella‟s life up to now has been somewhat unusual, but I can tell you she is a lovely young woman. A bit headstrong and prone to impulsive behavior perhaps—”

Nate snorted to himself.

“—but brilliant and really quite delightful in her own, independent way.”

Mrs. Delong‟s brows drew together. “Are you certain of this?”

“We have confirmed her identity, and you will have no doubts yourselves the moment you lay eyes on her.” Mother smiled at Emma. “She looks very much like Emma.”

“Who strongly resembles Helene,” Mrs. Delong said under her breath, a stunned expression on her face.

“Helene‟s daughter,” Lady Danworthy murmured, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “But

how?”

“It‟s a very long story and somewhat complicated. I shall tell it all to you on the way to London.

You should know as well that Gabriella has been injured, although she is expected to be fine,”

Mother added quickly. “But she needs her family.”

“Ladies, we should be on our way,” Nate said, trying and failing to hide his impatience.

“No,” Mrs. Delong said. “We can‟t go to London.”

Nate groaned to himself. “Why not?”

Caroline looked at her sister. “Why not indeed?”

Mrs. Delong met her younger sister‟s gaze firmly. “We cannot meet Helene‟s daughter without her necklace.”

“Yes, of course,” Caroline murmured.

“I had forgotten all about the necklace.” Mother shook her head. “I should have thought of that.”

Nate clenched his jaw. “What necklace?”

“Nathanial,” Emma began in a soothing manner. “One of our ancestors made his fortune working for the East India Company. He gave his wife a Chinese gaming chip set in gold to wear as a pendant, for luck I believe. She passed it down to her daughter, who passed it to hers. My grandmother had two more made, as she had three daughters, and never revealed which was the original.”

“When Helene left England, hers was somehow left behind.” Mrs. Delong set her jaw in a

stubborn manner. “I will not meet her daughter without her necklace. She would have wanted her to have it. It means, more than anything else could, that we welcome her as a part of our family.”

“Can‟t you give it to her later?” Nate said hopefully.

All four women stared at him as if, being a man, he couldn‟t possibly understand, and indeed he didn‟t. And the look in each and every eye told him this was not open for debate. He groaned to himself. “Where is this necklace?”

“It‟s at my country house,” Lady Danworthy said.

He shook his head. “We can‟t—”

“Or course we can, Nathanial,” Mother said firmly. “And can still make it back in time.”

“In time for what?” Emma asked.

“As I said, my dear, this is a very long story. I shall explain it all to you on the way.” She glanced at her son. “Shouldn‟t we be on our way?”

“Yes,” he said sharply. “Let‟s be on our way.”

They still might be able to make it back to London before the committee adjourned. If not, he had made plans for that as well. He only hoped his plan worked better than any of Gabriella‟s.

Gabriella struggled to open her eyes.

She was lost in the thickest of London fogs. Tendrils of haze, like incessant fingers, plucked at her, wrapped around her, reached into her soul. Voices sounded far in the distance, fading and growing more distinct and fading again. She tried to go toward them but couldn‟t seem to

progress, couldn‟t seem to move at all. The fog grew deeper, darker, nearly black. So thick she could feel it envelop her, press against her skin, push into her mouth, her nose.

She couldn‟t see anything at all save for an orange glow off to her right. Fire, of course, the house was on fire. She turned to flee and realized she couldn‟t, she had to go back. She held out her hands. They shook and were empty. Shouldn‟t she have something? But what? And why

couldn‟t she remember? She turned again and Lord Rathbourne stepped out of the blackness, a vaguely surprised look on his face, his shirt crimson and dripping. Somewhere in the distance a woman screamed. A high-pitched, rasping, hysterical sound of terror and panic, and…it was her voice!

She bolted upright in the bed. Pain shot through her head. She doubled over and pressed the heels of her hands to her temples and groaned.

“Gabriella?” A comforting hand rested on her shoulder.

She turned her head and peered through half-opened eyes. “Florence?”

Florence sat by her side. “Yes dear, I‟m here. How do you feel?”

“I‟d have to feel better to die.” She groaned again. “Am I dying?”

“No, darling, you‟re going to be fine.” Florence shook her head in a chastising manner. “You were really very lucky.”

“Yes, well I don‟t feel lucky.” She gingerly lifted her head and sat up slowly. “What happened to me?”

“You don‟t remember?”

“I don‟t seem to remember anything at the moment.” Save the insidious fog and flames and

Rathbourne. “What…”

“There was a fire at the house. You and Mr. Harrington—”

“The seal.” She groped for the memory. “We found the seal.”

“Indeed you did.”

“And the fire.” She remembered the heat and the smoke and the fear. Her throat ached almost as much as her head. “And Nathanial.” She caught her breath. “Is Nathanial—”

“He‟s fine,” Florence said. “There isn‟t a scratch on him.”

Relief washed through her.

“Do you remember going back in the house?”

“Going back…” She drew her brows together. She remembered a sense of urgency…She shook

her head carefully. “No.”

“You went back in the house to get your mother‟s letters.”

“Did I?” Gabriella murmured. “How very foolish of me.”

“Yes, it was,” Florence said firmly.

She remembered now, some of it, most of it. “And did I? Find the letters?”

“Yes, you did.”

“I can‟t imagine why I would,” she said under her breath. It made no sense to her now. Still, she did recall the feeling of urgency. “When…”

“The fire was three days ago. You have been asleep since then. You have needed it and you

continue to need it.” Florence nodded. “Complete rest is what the doctor said and no

excitement.”

Excitement was the last thing she wanted, although the throbbing in her head had subsided

somewhat. “Where is Nathanial?”

“He is not here right now and that‟s none of your concern at the moment. No excitement,

remember.” Florence‟s voice softened. “He has been quite concerned about you.”

Gabriella settled back against the pillows and managed a slight smile. “Has he?”

“Indeed he has,” she said with a smile of her own, “and you shall see him as soon as you are up to it.”

Gabriella plucked at the covers. “I feel up to it now.”

“Nonetheless, it‟s not advisable,” Florence said in the no nonsense manner Gabriella recognized.

There would be no getting around her on this point. Probably. Florence rose to her feet. “What you need now is something to eat. Broth and tea and toast, I should think.”

“I am hungry,” Gabriella murmured. A thought struck and she widened her eyes. “Three days did you say?”

Florence nodded warily.

“Then the Verification Committee ends its meeting tomorrow. I have to—”

“You have to do nothing at the moment but rest.” Florence‟s look left no room for argument. She paused. “The doctor left something for the pain in your head and to help you sleep.”

“I don‟t want it.” She shook her head gently. “The dreams…” She shuddered. “The pain in my head is nothing compared to the dreadful dreams. No, I shall do without it.” She forced a smile.

“I do feel much better.”

Florence considered her carefully. “Very well, then. I shall be back in a minute.”

She took her leave, and Gabriella rested against the pillows. It was all coming back to her.

Discovering the dead viscount, hearing how her brother had died, finding the seal, the fire, the letters…

Nathanial was safe and he had the seal. She glanced at the window. It was already afternoon.

Still, she needn‟t worry, there was time. She closed her eyes and blew a long breath. Nathanial had the seal and all would be well. He would make certain of it.

She dozed on and off through the day but by early evening her mind had cleared considerably.

Where was Nathanial? Florence seemed particularly evasive and finally refused to discuss

Nathanial at all save to tell her that she needed to avoid excitement, which meant avoiding Mr.

Harrington. It was a most convenient excuse, and Gabriella had stopped asking. Once, when

Florence was out of the room, a maid came in to bring fresh linens. Gabriella had asked her to fetch Nathanial, but the maid said that Master Nathanial had left the city. She‟d had no more information that that.

Where was he? Where had he gone? He had the seal. Surely he realized the meeting was to end tomorrow at noon. What if he didn‟t make it? What if he didn‟t come back at all? What if he had gone off to find the lost city himself?

No, she told herself, firmly trying to thrust the disquieting thoughts aside. She trusted him completely. Nathanial would never betray her like that. He would never betray her at all. It was simply the circumstances and her own suspicious nature that made her wonder otherwise.

But as the day wore on into evening and night, dread curled inside her. She wanted to trust him.

No, she did trust him. Surely wherever he was, whatever he was doing, it was a matter of

importance. He would never abandon her. She knew that, not merely in her mind but in her heart.

Nathanial Harrington was the one person in the world she could count on.

Still, as she fell into a restless sleep that night a voice in the back of her head nagged at her.

What if she was wrong?

Twenty-nine

This was the final day.

The thought struck Gabriella the moment her eyes opened. She threw off the covers and slid out of bed. The ache in her head was nearly gone, and certainly no reason to stay abed. Was

Nathanial back? A glance at the window told her it was already late morning. Damnation! She pulled on her wrapper, swept out of her room and stepped across the hall to his door. She paused, then turned the handle and stepped inside.

“Nathanial?” She crossed the sitting room to his bedchamber. His bed was untouched. Surely it had already been made up. Unless, of course, he hadn‟t slept in it last night. Where was he? Not that it mattered. She trusted him.

She hurried out of his room. She should dress, it was most improper to wander about the house in her nightclothes, but it couldn‟t be helped. At this particular moment propriety was not

uppermost in her mind. She sped down the corridor to the stairway and fairly flew down the stairs, where she met the butler‟s startled gaze.