[Victoria Alexander] The Virgin's Secret (Harringt(BookZZ.org) (7 page)

Lady Regina gasped. “It would ruin my prospects for a good marriage! My very life! We would all be disgraced!”

“I see.” The earl considered Gabriella for a moment. “Would you accept our help? It would be an uneasy truce, of course. I very much doubt that you trust us, and I cannot say we trust you.”

Gabriella shook her head. “Quite honestly, my lord, I don‟t know what to say. I did not expect such an offer.”

“Let me ask you this, my dear,” Lady Wyldewood said. “Was Enrico your sole financial

support?”

“Yes,” Gabriella said without thinking. Again, it was neither an actual lie nor the complete truth.

The older woman studied her. “You have no other family?”

“No.” Aside from English relations she‟d never so much as heard from, that, at least, was the truth.

“Except for the brother I encountered in Egypt,” Nathanial said.

“And I have had no word from him since then,” Gabriella quickly said. “He is no doubt still in Turkey. Although he too may be…” She paused. She‟d always considered herself an honest sort.

Yet the lies that fell from her lips came with surprising ease. “…gone forever.”

Suspicion glittered in Nathanial‟s eyes. He obviously wasn‟t stupid. It was only a matter of time before he realized the truth about their first meeting. What would he think of her then? She ignored the annoying question. Nathanial Harrington‟s opinion of her was of no consequence.

“Then it‟s agreed.” Lady Wyldewood nodded. “As they are the ones most affected, Quinton and Nathanial will assist Miss Montini to find the seal and restore her brother‟s good name.”

Quinton scoffed. “I have better things to do than help her.”

“I don‟t,” Nathanial said, then shook his head. “I do, but I can‟t think of anything more important than recovering an artifact of such significance. To prove Ambropia actually existed would be to rewrite history.” He blew a long breath. “It‟s the stuff careers and reputations are made of.”

“My brother‟s reputation,” Gabriella pointed out.

Nathanial met her gaze. “Without question. It is his find.”

“I suspect such an artifact would have a great monetary value as well,” the earl said in an overly casual manner. “It would bring a small fortune from museums or collectors.”

“Yes, it would.” Gabriella bristled. “But I fully intend to donate it to the collection of the Antiquities Society.”

“Very admirable, my dear,” Lady Wyldewood said, “and I have no intention of trying to

convince you otherwise, but I am well aware of the precarious nature of the finances of men who follow the path your brother did. Unless they have independent wealth or family money, as my sons do, they depend upon grants and funding from museums or organizations like the

Antiquities Society.” Concern shone in Lady Wyldewood‟s eyes. “With one brother dead and

another missing, your finances must be uncertain at best.”

“I will admit…” Gabriella chose her words with care. “…my discovery of the state of our

finances after Enrico‟s death did come as something of a shock.”

“I‟m not surprised.” The older woman nodded. “My husband was not merely a patron of the

society, but he had a passion for the study and the artifacts of ancient man as well. Many a dinner here included men like your brother and long discussions late into the night about their work and their adventures. It has been my observation that such men are more concerned with the past than the present and give little thought to financial stability. I doubt that your brother was

substantially different.

“Therefore…” Lady Wyldewood cast her children a decided look. “I propose that until this

situation is resolved and the seal recovered, Miss Montini stay here as our guest.”

“What?” the earl‟s brow rose.

Lady Regina scoffed. “How absurd.”

“Insane but interesting,” Quinton said.

Nathanial nodded slowly. “I think it‟s an excellent idea. We don‟t trust her, she doesn‟t trust us.

How better to keep an eye on one another than if we resided in the same house?”

“How better indeed,” Quinton said under his breath.

Gabriella scarcely heard him. The very idea of living in the same house with Nathanial

Harrington—who danced as if he had been her partner always, and brought out a flirtatious

demeanor in her she hadn‟t known she had, and made her wish, if only for a moment, that they were not on opposite sides—struck her as exceptionally dangerous. “I don‟t know…”

“Mother.” The earl‟s brow furrowed. “I can‟t believe you‟re inviting a complete stranger to stay in our home.”

“She‟s not exactly a complete stranger, Sterling.” Lady Wyldewood‟s gaze met Gabriella‟s. “I knew your mother.”

Gabriella lifted her chin. “I know.”

“Did you?”

Gabriella nodded. “After my brother died, I found a packet of letters written to my mother. One was from you.”

“I was so sorry to learn of her death, and then your father‟s.”

“It was a very long time ago,” Gabriella said with a shrug, as if it didn‟t matter.

The countess‟s expression remained serene, but there was the tiniest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “You should have come to me directly about all this, you know, rather than resort to the clandestine methods you employed tonight.”

Gabriella had the good grace to blush. “My apologies.”

“I look forward to having a long talk with you about your mother. I suspect you have a lot of questions.”

A lump formed in Gabriella‟s throat. She hadn‟t considered that Lady Wyldewood might want to talk about the mother who had died giving her birth. She rarely thought about her mother at all, and only dimly remembered a portrait her father had that, along with the rest of his furnishings and possessions, vanished among his relations after his death. The only thing his relatives had no use for was a little girl. She swallowed hard. “That would be most appreciated.”

“It is decided, then.” Lady Wyldewood rose to her feet, and the others followed suit.

Living with the Harringtons hadn‟t been part of her plan, but it would certainly serve her purposes. What better way to find the secrets of scoundrels than to live among them? Although, she amended the thought, Lady Wyldewood was very likely as genuinely nice as she appeared.

“The hour is late and I for one would like to retire,” the countess said. “I will have a room prepared for you. You may send for your things in the morning.” She cast an appraising glance over Gabriella. “I assume you have more appropriate clothing?”

Gabriella nodded. “But I should send a note now. The…lady I have been residing with is a very old friend…of my brother‟s.” Which was, at least, partially true. “She will worry if she finds me missing in the morning.”

“Most thoughtful of you, my dear.” The countess nodded approvingly, then glanced at her

daughter. “Are you coming?”

“Yes, Mother.” Lady Regina followed her mother out of the room.

“We should retire as well,” the earl said. “You will find paper and pens in Mr. Dennison‟s desk, although apparently you have already discovered that.”

Gabriella smiled weakly.

“Quinton?” The earl glanced at his brother.

Quinton downed the rest of his brandy, set the glass on the mantel, and stepped to Gabriella.

“Miss Montini.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “It has been a most enlightening evening.” His gaze never left hers, in precisely the same polished manner as his brother‟s had when he‟d kissed her hand. And yet, with this brother it was nothing more than overly practiced.

“I look forward to many more.” He released her hand and started for the door.

“Andrews will see you to your room when you‟re ready,” the earl said. “Good evening, Miss

Montini.”

“Lord Wyldewood,” she murmured.

He traded glances with Nathanial, and the younger brother followed him out of the room. A

moment later Nathanial returned. “You should write your note, Miss Montini,” he said coolly.

She moved to the secretary‟s desk—Mr. Dennison‟s desk—sat down in the chair and opened the top drawer, knowing full well Nathanial watched her every move, and ignoring a distinct twinge of embarrassment. After all, she wouldn‟t know where the paper and pens were if she hadn‟t broken into the desk.

She would write two notes. One to Xerxes and Miriam assuring them that all was well, and

another to Florence. She‟d put both notes in the same envelope. Xerxes was no doubt watching

the house, and he would certainly intercept her notes and make certain Florence saw only what she should.

She would tell Florence the truth: she had been invited to stay with an old friend of her mother‟s.

It struck her that, at this point, her lies might well be at an end. Aside from the true state of her finances, and that nonsense about a second brother, there was little left to lie about.

She scribbled a quick message to Xerxes, then took a fresh sheet of paper and started the note to Florence.

“You‟re writing rather a lot, aren‟t you?”

She resisted the urge to look at him. “I have rather a lot to say. I don‟t want her to worry.”

“Then I imagine you‟re not telling her you broke into my house.”

“No,” she said sharply. It was remarkably difficult to concentrate on her writing, knowing his unflinching gaze was fixed on her. “Are you going to keep staring at me?”

“I assure you, Miss Montini,” he said smoothly, “I don‟t intend to let you out of my sight.”

Four

Excellent,” Miss Montini murmured, her gaze still on the papers before her. “That will save me the effort of keeping you in my sight.”

It was obvious, even from where Nate stood, that she was writing more than one note. He could question her about that, again, but she would no doubt evade his question. Again. “I do not appreciate being lied to.”

She folded her notes, slid them into an envelope and sealed it. “I would imagine few people do.”

Still, her dishonesty made her no less attractive, and somewhat more intriguing. Odd, as he had always thought he valued honestly above all else. Apparently not as much as he valued deep blue eyes and a nicely curved figure.

“We have never met before, have we?” It was a statement more than a question.

She addressed the envelope. “I never said we did. You said I looked familiar and asked if we had met. I asked if you remembered, and you did not.”

“I didn‟t remember because there was nothing to remember.” Hah. He had her there.

“Regardless.” She finished writing the address with a refined flourish, set the pen down and looked up at him. “You didn‟t realize that. You thought you had kissed me and couldn‟t recall it.

It was most insulting.”

“How could it possibly be insulting?” He stared. “I couldn‟t remember because it didn‟t happen.”

“If it had and you couldn‟t remember, I would have been insulted.”

“If it had, I would have remembered!”

“No doubt,” she said in a tone that indicated she had a great many doubts about his ability to remember the women he‟d kissed. She didn‟t know anything about him but had made

assumptions based on nothing more than her own suspicious nature. Although admittedly the fact that her dead brother had named himself and Quint among those who might have stolen the find of a lifetime from him could have adversely influenced her opinion.

She held out the envelope. “Given the lateness of the hour, it would be best if this were delivered to Mr. Muldoon. He and his wife have been in my—in Miss Henry‟s—employ for years. He is

most discreet and trustworthy and will see that she receives it in the morning. I should hate to wake her up at this time of night, and I‟m certain Mr. Muldoon will be awake.”

Nate glanced at the address. It was in a respectable if not especially fashionable neighborhood. “I suspect the footman I send with this might well arrive before he does.”

She smiled in a pleasant manner. “Oh?”

“Come now, Miss Montini, you strike me as an intelligent woman. And an intelligent woman

would not roam the streets of London alone late at night.” He waved the envelope. “Therefore it is logical to assume the trustworthy, discreet Mr. Muldoon accompanied you.”

“I assure you, Mr. Harrington,” she said smoothly, “I am quite alone.”

He raised a brow. “Are you?”

“I have never been more alone in my life than I am at this very minute.” She rose to her feet and continued as if she had just said nothing of significance, rather than made a comment as

enigmatic as it was perhaps revealing. There was a great deal more to Gabriella Montini than met the eye. “If you have no objections, I should like to retire now.” But what met the eye was most desirable. “It has been an eventful evening.”

He raised a brow. “Then I take it you do not attempt to rob houses every night?”

“Not every night,” she said in a casual manner. “No.”

“Or ever before?”

“Or ever before.” She sighed. “There now, are you reassured that robbing houses is not my

chosen profession?”

“I never imagined for a moment that you were a skilled burglar. A professional would not have been caught by a mere girl.”

“A random act of circumstance.” She met his gaze directly. “You may be confident, the next time I attempt to rob a house I shall take additional precautions against discovery.”

Was that a slight hint of amusement in her eye or was she mocking him? He bit back a smile of his own. “That is good to know, since the next time we might well be working together.”

“Do you foresee our breaking into houses?”

“I suspect making any prediction regarding you and I would be a mistake.” He stepped to the door and opened it. “Now, I would be happy to escort you to your rooms.”

“I thought the earl said the butler would show me to my rooms?” She swept past him into the corridor with the same aplomb as if she wore a ball gown rather than somewhat shabby men‟s attire. He had never before considered just how enticing men‟s clothing might be on the right woman. While not an improper inch of skin was revealed anywhere—although the mere nature

of the trousers themselves were improper—there was something about the vague suggestion of what the loosely fitting clothing concealed that was distinctly…exciting.