stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. As much as he didn‟t know about Gabriella Montini, only a man long dead in his grave would fail to recognize the timeless signs of a woman who was not happy, especially with the man at her side. He braced himself.
When they stepped out of the building, she shook off his hand and turned to him, her blue eyes glittering with anger in the sunlight. “What on earth were you thinking?” She glared. “Coming here? To them?”
“You didn‟t have a plan,” he said calmly, and looked down the street for his carriage. “You had no idea where we should begin.”
“You could have mentioned this was where we were going! You didn‟t tell me this was your
plan.” She fairly spat the word.
“You wouldn‟t have come.”
“Of course I wouldn‟t have come. This is the last place—”
“Gabriella.” He met her gaze directly. “We needed a certain amount of authority, credibility.
Legitimacy, if you will.”
Her eyes narrowed. “My claim is perfectly legitimate.”
“I understand that—”
“And as for credibility, even if I am a female without a brain in her head—”
“No one said anything of the sort. In fact, your intelligence was highly praised by Beckworth.”
She snorted with disdain. “For a woman.”
“For anyone. You needn‟t be so indignant about Beckworth‟s appraisal.”
“Perhaps I am allowing my feminine emotions to overrule my head!”
“Perhaps you are.” He gritted his teeth. “You know full well the limitations on women in this world. You acknowledged them yourself when we talked about your desire to follow your
brother‟s path in life.”
“You suggested sharing credit! I have no intention of doing so.”
“It was a suggestion, nothing more.” Where was his blasted carriage?
“He charged you with my protection! I don‟t need—”
“You most certainly do.” His patience snapped. “You are irrational on this subject. Thus far your actions have been anything but sensible and well thought out.”
She gasped.
“Can you deny it?” He grabbed her elbow and stared into her eyes. “You could be in jail right now. First you attempt to search my brother‟s library at my sister‟s ball. Then you break into my house—” A thought struck him and he paused. “Have you done anything else I should know
about?”
She hesitated for no more than a fraction of a second, but it was enough. He could see there was something she still kept from him. She squared her shoulders. “No, of course not.”
He didn‟t believe her for a second, and vowed to himself to find out what else she might have done in this quest of hers. “Why didn‟t you tell me that you had the impression?”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “That.”
“Yes, that!”
She shrugged. “You didn‟t ask.”
“So much for trust and leaps of faith,” he said sharply.
“It‟s not that I don‟t trust you,” she said quickly. “It simply slipped my mind, that‟s all.”
“I don‟t believe you.” He released her and waved at his carriage that had just turned onto the street.
Her forehead furrowed. “Why not?”
“As you said, Gabriella.” The carriage pulled to a stop in front of them and he jerked open the door. The waiting maid stared at him with widened eyes and slid back into the farthest corner of the carriage. “Trust has to be earned.”
He helped her in and snapped the door shut.
“Furthermore I have no intention of attending that ball.” She huffed.
“Oh yes you will. It‟s in your best interests to make an appearance, and you will do so.”
She glared. “You cannot order me as if I were—”
“As if you were the woman I could have arrested?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Nathanial Harrington, I can‟t believe you—”
“Would resort to blackmail?” He narrowed his eyes. “One does what one must. I shall see you at home.”
She leaned out of the window. “Aren‟t you coming?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I have an errand to attend to.”
“What kind of errand?” Suspicion rang in her voice.
“Trust, Gabriella. Try to have a little faith in me. I will not fail you.” Nate signaled to the driver and the carriage rolled off. He heaved a frustrated sigh. “You have my word, Gabriella Montini.”
He turned and started off down the street. If he had any hope of keeping his word, he needed to know her secrets. His family‟s solicitor had long employed an excellent and reputable
investigation agency. According to Sterling, its operatives were fast and efficient and had proved most useful in the past. Nate had never needed them before, but if ever there was a time, it was now.
With every moment spent in her company, he discovered there was much he didn‟t know about
Gabriella Montini. And much he needed to discover.
Share the credit for discovery of the seal?” Gabriella paced the parlor of her house, noting in the back of her mind how very small it was. Obviously residing with the Harringtons had changed her perceptions. That too was annoying. “Can you imagine such a thing?”
Florence glanced up from the work in her hand. “It seems rather sensible to me.”
Gabriella stopped in mid-step and glared. “Sensible?”
“Gabriella.” Florence sighed and dropped the pillow cover she‟d been embroidering into her lap.
“You know as well as I—as well as Mr. Harrington and Mr. Beckworth, apparently—that
whoever is in possession of the seal is not necessarily the same person who stole it. Whoever has it now might well have come by it in a relatively legitimate manner. If so, he would be hard-pressed to give up recognition of the find at all, let alone share it.”
“I am well aware of that. I simply prefer not to think about it.” Gabriella blew a long breath.
“Still, to have Nathanial suggest it, well, it smacked of betrayal.”
Florence raised a brow. “I thought you said you trusted him?”
“I did. I do. Somewhat.” She sighed. “I can‟t completely. I am trying.” She resumed pacing. “It‟s not that I don‟t want to trust him. I want to trust him more than anything.” The very idea of trusting Nathanial was almost irresistible. Of not having to watch every word she said. Of trusting him with her confidence, her secrets. Maybe even her heart. Although that was absurd.
“I should think it would be a great relief for you to trust someone completely.”
Gabriella widened her eyes. “I trust you completely.”
“Do you?” Florence said, picking up her embroidery. “Always?”
“Yes, of course.” Gabriella ignored the thought of her trip to Egypt. “I trust you implicitly.”
“Implicitly?”
“Yes.” Gabriella nodded. “Without question.”
“Yet you did not trust me enough to tell me anything about your intended misdeeds at Mr.
Harrington‟s home.”
“You would have stopped me.”
Florence cast her a chastising look. “That is my job.”
“And you do it well. Which is why I didn‟t tell you.”
“Hmph.” Florence paused, no doubt to compile more examples. “You didn‟t tell me you have the clay impression of the seal.”
“Yes, well…”
Florence glanced at her sharply. “Gabriella?”
“That is a bit of a problem,” Gabriella murmured.
“A problem?”
“In definition.” Gabriella shrugged. “Nothing more significant than that.”
Florence narrowed her eyes. “An explanation, if you please.”
“The impression is not actually in my possession at the moment.” Gabriella held her breath.
“I see.” Florence thought for a moment. “Do you know where it might be?”
“I am certain it is in London and probably under our very noses.”
“London is a very big place.”
“I‟m sure it is here in the house,” Gabriella said with far more conviction than she felt.
“But you don‟t know.”
“No, but I am fairly confident.” She sank down on the sofa beside Florence. “It doesn‟t make sense for it to be anywhere else. Enrico told me he was leaving it in the one place where he knew it would be safe. Where, he said, he kept everything he valued. It has to be the house, there is nowhere else.” She smiled ruefully. “My brother, if you recall, was even less trusting than I.”
“I could scarcely forget.” Florence paused. “But is there a chance he would have left it in a box at the bank?”
“He had no box, as far as I can determine. I contacted the bank to confirm that.”
“After his death.” Florence nodded. “Very sensible.”
“Actually, before.” Heat washed up Gabriella‟s face. “When his letters began to ramble, it seemed like a good idea to find the impression. I should have known better. Enrico barely trusted the bank with his money.” My money. “Did you have any idea how much money we had?”
“Not at all.” Florence sniffed. “I certainly would have asked for an increase in my wages if I had so much as suspected I wasn‟t employed by an archeologist who could barely pay his mortgage,
but by a treasure hunter with an impressive fortune. He never said a word,” she added under her breath. “Your brother was a man of many secrets.”
“Yes, I know.”
Florence paused for a long moment as if considering her words. “On those rare occasions when he was in London, he and I would frequently have long talks. Sometimes we would talk about you or occasionally about the politics inherent in dealing with museums or the Antiquities Society, but usually we talked about his life, his work. About things he had done or seen in his quest for artifacts. I think I was the only one he could talk to about such things. He had few friends, you know, and few he could confide in. Indeed, there were times when I thought of myself as his father confessor.” She drew a deep breath. “There was even a moment once, long ago, when I fancied myself in love with him.”
Gabriella stared. “Did you?”
Florence smiled. “As I said, it was a moment and not much more than that. I was wise enough not to lose my heart to a man like your brother.”
Florence didn‟t say it, but then it wasn‟t necessary to say it aloud. Enrico had a passion for women of all sorts. Even when she was a child there was often a women in his room or his tent.
They seemed as necessary to his existence as food and drink. It wasn‟t until years later that she had understood his behavior in regards to women was not that of an honorable man.
“If anything, your brother and I were friends of a sort. As he had charged me with your care, I believe he felt I was worthy of his trust, although he trusted people even less than you do. I believe it was only his excitement about the seal that led him to ignore his usual guarded nature in such matters and show the impression to the men you now suspect of involvement in its theft.”
“I do trust you,” Gabriella said firmly. “And I need your help.”
“Oh?”
“A prolonged absence from the Harrington household on any given day would surely arouse
suspicion. I am only here now because Nathanial, in his arrogance, put me in his carriage, ordered the driver to return me to his house, and assumed I would do so.”
“Foolish man,” Florence murmured.
Gabriella ignored her. “I need you to search the house. Every nook, every cranny.” She got to her feet and resumed pacing. “The impression has to be here. This is the only place it could possibly be.”
“It‟s not an especially big house, Gabriella, but I imagine there are any number of hiding places.
If it is here, it might well be impossible to find. However, I shall enlist Miriam‟s help and we
shall do our best.” She studied Gabriella thoughtfully. “But why on earth did you say you had it when you didn‟t?”
“I don‟t know.” Gabriella sighed and brushed an errant stand of hair away from her face. “I needed a way to prove the seal, once found, was Enrico‟s. The words just seemed to come out of my mouth of their own accord.”
“That‟s the problem with deceit, dear. The first lie is awkward, difficult, and often carries a great deal of guilt. The second is a bit easier, the third easier yet. And eventually…” Florence‟s knowing gaze met Gabriella‟s. “…deceit becomes far easier than truth.”
Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest in an effort to disguise her unease. Indeed, the lie about possessing the impression had been remarkably easy, without thought or guilt. “I shall not let that happen.”
Florence‟s cast her a skeptical look.
“I won‟t,” Gabriella said firmly, resolving to at least try. “I have always been an honest sort, it‟s just that now…well, honesty is somewhat awkward.”
“It always is, Gabriella.” Florence shook her head. “Do remember the ends do not always justify the means.”
“You needn‟t keep saying that.”
“Oh but I do. At least until you understand its meaning as more than just a saying embroidered on a pillow.” Florence heaved a long suffering sigh. “You come by it naturally, I‟m afraid, your brother never understood it.”
Gabriella narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Simply what I said. For your brother it was the acquisition that counted, not the method by which it was acquired.”
“I don‟t understand.”
“Nor do you need to,” Florence said in a firm manner, then deftly changed the subject. “Now, will you wear your new gown to the ball?”
The same gown she had worn to Lady Regina‟s ball. “I don‟t particularly wish to go.”
“Nonetheless, Mr. Harrington is right. You have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to hide.
My dear, you have gone to that ball for a good six years that I can recall, and as you will be in the company of the Harrington family, there is no reason for you not to go this year.”
“But last year…” Last year the ball had been glorious. Enrico was excited about presenting his seal to the committee; she had been confident that she could at last convince him to take her with him, and she‟d had no end of eager partners. This year…
This year there would be Nathanial.
“And should you need another friendly face—”
“Which reminds me,” Gabriella interrupted. “I was not at all pleased to see Xerxes—or John, as he is now known at Harrington House. I gather that was the plan you mentioned?”
“Not quite as deceitful as yours, but then I have not had as much practice nor do I seem to have the natural gift for it that you do.” Florence fixed her with a firm look. “I am only grateful this tendency of yours did not surface in your younger days.”