“We thought it would be best if I accompanied you rather than a servant.” He started off, confident she would stay by his side.
“So that you may keep an eye on me?”
He paused for a moment, then nodded. “Exactly.”
She smiled in a superior manner, as though somehow this had been her plan all along, but said nothing. He could well imagine what she might be thinking. Miss Montini did not appear to be the kind of woman to take well to anything less than total victory.
He led her up the stairs to the next floor. While his mother had told Andrews to prepare a room in the wing where she and Regina and Sterling had their rooms, Nate and his older brother had thought it better to put her into the unoccupied rooms next to Quint and across the hall from Nate. It was an excellent idea, he thought now, in so many ways.
He stopped at the door to her rooms and opened it. “I hope this will be satisfactory.”
She glanced inside. “It‟s lovely.”
“A footman will be here in the morning to escort you to breakfast.”
Miss Montini slanted him an annoyed look. “Will a servant be stationed at my door all night as well?”
He raised a brow. “Is that necessary?”
“I wouldn‟t think so.” Her tone was sharp. “Unless I am to be considered a prisoner.”
“Not at all, Miss Montini. You are our guest.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I fully expect you to behave like one.”
“I do know how to behave properly, Mr. Harrington.”
“Oh, so these past few days of house breaking and attending parties you have not been invited to were an aberration?”
“I believe I have already said that.” Her jaw clenched. “My actions were necessary.”
“No, in truth they weren‟t. You could have come to my mother or Sterling. You could have come to me. I would have listened to you.”
“You didn‟t listen in Egypt.”
“Perhaps not. And when I next see your brother, he shall have my apologies.” He paused. “I‟m sure you will hear from him soon.”
“Yes, well, he‟s never been very good about that sort of thing.” She shrugged as if her brother‟s lack of communication didn‟t worry her.
“Miss Montini, if we are to work together, it‟s not too soon to develop a certain level of trust between us. I suggest, in the morning, you tell me all of your older brother‟s suspicions as well as everything regarding his search for the seal.” He thought for moment. “It might also be wise if I took a look at the letters you received from him. In spite of their questionable nature, there might be something you have overlooked.”
“Very sensible.” She stared at him thoughtfully. “I must confess, I had the same thought. I requested his letters be sent along with my things.”
He waved the sealed note in his hand. “I shall have this delivered at once.”
“Thank you. Mr. Harrington?”
“Yes?
She pulled the door closed and leaned her back against it, as if concerned that he might be overcome by the mere sight of a bed and ravish her on the spot. With a little encouragement he would be more than willing to try. He brushed the intriguing thought from his mind. “Might I ask you a question?”
“Go on.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He shrugged. “It is an exceptionally large house, and as I assume you did not explore the entire building—”
“No, I didn‟t mean escort me to my rooms.” She huffed in disdain. “I understand why your
mother might wish to help me. She wishes to avoid even a hint of scandal, and I suspect that her tentative connection to my mother plays a part as well. But you.” She shook her head. “Why would you want to help me?”
“A number of reasons.” At least one of which had to do with her blue eyes and the curve of her shoulder in an apricot dress. “To begin with, I have worked far too hard to improve my own brother‟s reputation to have speculation damage it now. Nor do I wish to have my own honesty in question. Secondly, we are talking about a discovery of immense importance. I should like to play a role in that.” He rested his shoulder against the door frame and gazed down at her. “And because I wish to know you better.”
She studied him suspiciously. “Do you?”
“I do indeed.”
“Why?”
“Because I have thought of nothing but you since we first met. You see, Miss Montini, you made a rather serious error the other night.”
“Did I?” Her eyes widened.
“You did. You made me think, however briefly, that we had shared a kiss. The thought that I couldn‟t recall such a kiss was driving me mad. However,” he leaned closer, “even before you vanished from the ball, I realized we had never met because I would never have forgotten kissing you.”
“Nonsense,” she said weakly.
“And I cannot get the idea of kissing you out of my head.”
She swallowed hard. “Are you thinking of kissing me now?”
“I can think of little else.”
“Why?”
“Surely, Miss Montini, you have looked in a mirror. You are quite lovely. The delicate curve of your cheek is only emphasized by the defiant tilt of your chin. I appreciate defiance almost as much as intelligence in a woman. Your eyes flash with fire, Miss Montini, when you‟re angry or indignant or trapped. And your lips…” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes.
“…beg to be kissed. Often and quite thoroughly. In short, Miss Montini, you are entirely…” He lowered his mouth to hers. “…irresistible.” His lips brushed across hers, and for a moment she stilled.
Then she laughed. “Good Lord, is that really effective with women?”
He straightened slowly. “What?”
“All that „your eyes shimmer like stars and your lips are like cherries‟ nonsense.”
“I don‟t believe I mentioned stars or cherries.” He smiled slowly.
“You would have if you had thought of it.”
“Probably.”
Her eyes narrowed. “But you didn‟t answer my question. Do you find that sort of thing is
successful with women?”
“Quite often, yes.”
She shook her head. “They must be very stupid women.”
“I‟ll have you know I don‟t like stupid women. I find them…” He searched for the right word.
“…stupid. And not the least bit enjoyable.”
“Oh?” She raised a brow. “Are you the type of man who likes a bit of a challenge in his carnal pursuits, then?”
“Yes. No.” He paused. She had him so confused he had no idea what he meant. “I‟m afraid
however I answer that now will be wrong. But do tell me, Miss Montini, do you intend to be a challenge?”
“I do not intend to be the object of your pursuit, if that‟s what you‟re asking. Furthermore, if by some wild alignment of the stars and the disappearance of all rational behavior in this world I were to become said object, I am not a challenge you can overcome with pretty words.” She
crossed her arms over her chest, and he was compelled to step back. “Poor Mr. Harrington.
Apparently you have never before encountered a woman who is not merely not stupid, but of an intelligence superior to yours.”
“Nor have I done so now,” he said with a shrug, although he wasn‟t entirely sure she might not be as intelligent as he.
She scoffed. “We shall see.”
“Indeed we shall.”
“You do need to understand and acknowledge this, Mr. Harrington—I am not here to be your
friend, and I am certainly not here to be your…your lover.” Again her eyes flashed at her words.
It was most fetching. “We are uneasy allies in the pursuit of justice. We are together for the express purpose of recovering the seal. Nothing more than that.”
“Yes, of course.” His gaze drifted to her lips once again. They did indeed beg to be kissed. “Yet it seems to me one relationship does not preclude the other.”
“Nor does one ensure the other.”
“You do owe me a kiss, you know.” He bent closer. “Preferably in the moonlight.”
“I see no moonlight at the moment.”
“Save that in your eyes.”
“I thought there was fire in my eyes.”
He chuckled. “They are most remarkable eyes.”
“Ah, Mr. Harrington.” She rested her hand on his cheek and her voice softened. “You are a scoundrel, but a charming scoundrel. I can well imagine your words would make any number of women melt at your feet. Fortunately…” She gazed into his eyes, and his breath caught. “…I am not one of them.” She dropped her hand and pushed open the door. “Good evening.”
“Miss Montini.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips. “You should know I am not the type of scoundrel to easily accept defeat. Be it the pursuit of artifacts…” He kissed her palm, then met her gaze firmly. “Or the pursuit of something far more exciting.” He released her hand and stepped back. “You may consider that fair warning.”
“I shall consider it as nothing more than it was. A frivolous statement from an admitted
scoundrel. As such, I see no need to take your warning as anything other than the inconsequential comment that it was.” She nodded. “Good evening.” She stepped into her room and closed the door firmly in his face. He heard the lock click into place.
He knocked sharply on the door. “I did not admit to being a scoundrel.”
Her voice on the other side of the door was faint. “You did not deny it.”
“You do realize I fully intend to kiss you in moonlight or elsewhere.”
“I wouldn‟t wager on it, Mr. Harrington.”
“Regardless, you do owe me a kiss.”
Muffled laughter was the only response.
He stared at the closed door for a moment, then smiled slowly. This—She—was no doubt going to be far more than he had bargained for. But there was time enough to consider her, and all that went with her, in the morning.
At the top of his list of items needing consideration was his brother‟s role in all this. He needed to make certain Quinton had had no part in this theft. Not that he didn‟t believe his brother‟s denial, but Quint had a habit of twisting facts to suit his own purposes. He wouldn‟t put it past Quint to know more about this than he had said thus far.
Regardless of his brother‟s involvement or lack thereof, he felt that odd sense of anticipation, of impending excitement, that he always had at the beginning of a new adventure.
Still, he couldn‟t help but wonder what would be the greater adventure. The quest or the woman?
And ultimately, which would be the greater find?
Gabriella pressed her ear against the door, She heard his footsteps retreat, then another door opened. Apparently, Nathanial Harrington‟s rooms were directly across the hall. Not that it mattered. He could be sleeping in the next bed for all the good it would do him.
She blew a long breath and looked around. The room was far larger than her own and far more luxurious. There was something to be said for immense wealth. She moved to the bed and saw that nightclothes had been laid out for her. They no doubt belonged to the Lady Regina, who probably wasn‟t at all pleased about the loan of them.
Gabriella changed quickly, extinguished the lamp, and climbed into bed. And stared unseeing at the ceiling.
Well, this hadn‟t turned out as she had planned. The plan, as ill-conceived as it now appeared, was simply to find some sort of proof of the Harringtons‟ involvement with the seal. Now, she had agreed to accept their assistance, and was furthermore installed in their home as a guest.
Which, admittedly, could prove to her advantage.
She had not anticipated Lady Wyldewood‟s response to her situation. Not her insistence that the family provide their help, and certainly not the countess‟s intention to talk to her about her mother. In truth, she had thought the fact of that long ago friendship might well prove a valuable weapon to keep her out of the hands of the authorities. Lady Wyldewood surely wouldn‟t have the daughter of an old friend arrested. It was the one thing Gabriella hadn‟t revealed to Xerxes about tonight‟s plot.
Admittedly, on occasion, she‟d wondered about her mother. Who she had been and who her
family was. The letters she‟d found gave no clue, even though nearly all the notes were from her mother‟s sisters. They were the kind of letters sisters wrote to one another, bits of gossip and that sort of thing. One mentioned a necklace her mother had apparently left in England. But while the letter from Lady Wyldewood had been on her stationary, in the letters from her mother‟s sisters there were no surnames used, no addresses included, and no clue as to where these sisters might be found. Not that she cared beyond simple curiosity. Her jaw clenched. After all, they had had no interest in their sister‟s only child, so why should she have any interest in them?
Gabriella closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. How different her life might have been if her aunts had taken her in after her father‟s death. She would have grown up as a proper English lady in a proper English home, rather than the Gypsylike existence she had lived with Enrico.
Not that she would have changed any of it, she amended quickly. Her years of traveling with her brother, sharing his work, had been the grandest of adventures. Still, it would be nice to feel one had a permanent place in the world. A home, a family, people who cared if you existed or not.
She had lived in London for nearly a decade now yet still felt out of place. She did not belong here, not really, and there was nowhere she did belong.
She couldn‟t help but wonder if her mother had lived whether she would be like Lady
Wyldewood—kind, generous, and very nice. She rather hoped so, not that it made any difference now. It was pointless to consider what might have been. Her thoughts tonight, here in the dark, were probably attributable to seeing the bond shared by the countess and her family, and of no
more significance than that. But if her mother hadn‟t died or if her aunts had taken her in and she‟d been raised as a proper English lady…
She would be the perfect match for Nathanial Harrington.
Where on earth had that come from? It was absurd. She huffed, rolled over and punched the
pillow, then curled up and tried to push the annoying thought from her head. No doubt it was all his fine words that had made her think such a ridiculous thing in the first place. She had never wanted to be a proper English lady. She had accepted long ago that she would never be any