A Curse of the Heart

by Adele Clee

  “Does Mr. Stone know you intend to call upon them?”

  “You’ve asked another question, George. And no, he does not know I intend to call on them else I would have asked him for their address.”

  George opened his mouth, but promptly closed it again and then spent a moment examining her face. “When you talk about Mr. Stone you have a certain twinkle in your eye, a certain look that makes me wonder if the term friends is the appropriate word to define your relationship.”

  Rebecca blinked but could not stop the heat rising to her cheeks. If George could read that in her eyes, what else was she giving away? Did he know she was in love with Gabriel, that he made her body tremble simply by speaking her name?

  “Mr. Stone is my dearest friend, the only person I am able to trust. I would expect my eyes to twinkle with respect when mentioning the name of the man who has done his utmost to help me.”

  The corners of George’s mouth twitched, but he did not smile. “I trust he is proving to be satisfactory?”

  Rebecca almost choked on the lump that formed in her throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “As your chaperone. I trust he is proving to be a reliable companion,” he clarified. “I hope you know I had nothing to do with what happened at the museum this time. I would never damage something so precious out of spite or jealousy.”

  Had Gabriel told him about her mother’s painting?

  Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation in her office, where Gabriel had told her he wanted to stay and implied it had nothing to do with duty or responsibility. She could not help but think it was a lie.

  “Mr. Stone came to see you?” she asked her vision blurring. “He told you about the painting? He told you he would act as a chaperone?”

  “I believe he thought we were responsible for damaging the painting and sought vengeance for the distress caused. Freddie has been avoiding me, but I am to meet with him later. Although I doubt him capable of making it up your stairs let alone anything else.” He sighed, and his gaze softened. “I understand why you feel you cannot trust me. I had to trust Stone. He is the only person who is close to you and one has to admire his commitment to your cause.”

  Commitment! Had Gabriel stayed the night purely out of a sense of obligation?

  “I thought you said his morbid fascination with the dead was no good for me,” she challenged, conjuring an image of an underground vault and her wounded heart trapped in a jar, withering before her eyes.

  George shrugged. “I wanted to make him angry. I wanted him to rescue you from the Egyptian tomb you call a home. I wanted him to prove me wrong.”

  Oh, Gabriel had certainly proved him wrong.

  “Well, where has your meddling got you, my lord. I have just sat here and told you he is the only person I trust and yet you had to find a way of ruining it. I asked Gabriel not to tell you about the painting or the intruders,” she said aware she had spoken his name so intimately and without thought. “With your flippant remarks, you have shown him to be untrustworthy. You have managed to destroy the only thing that means anything to me. So ask yourself this, why would I ever trust you when you seek to hurt me at every opportunity?”

  Rebecca stood and thrust her gloves on so fiercely she was in danger of fracturing a finger. “Stay away from me and stop interfering in my life,” she barked as she turned towards the door.

  “Rebecca,” he called after her, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Sometimes arrogance gets the better of me. Sometimes, in a bid to prove my worth, I go about things the wrong way.” Her father’s blue eyes looked up at her, all sad and forlorn. “A week ago I would not have been able to help you. But since learning of your friendship with Mr. Stone, well — you will find his sister, Ariana, on George Street, number thirty-six.”

  Chapter 22

  Number thirty-six, a mid-terrace house of excellent proportions, looked clean and well maintained. While Gabriel failed to provide emotional support, he obviously had no problem when it came to his financial responsibilities.

  “Do you want me to wait?” the hackney driver called out to her. “It’s four and six every half hour.”

  Rebecca raised a brow at the extortionate price, the man shrugging in response as he flashed a mouth full of rotten teeth. “No, I don’t need you to wait,” she said thrusting the two-shilling fare into his greedy palm. Besides, the walk home would give her an opportunity to think; to prepare for the blazing row she knew would follow.

  Although she had just as much right to be angry.

  Against her wishes, Gabriel had colluded with George Wellford. He’d plotted and schemed as though caring for a child in need of coddling. It took every effort to suppress the feeling of betrayal, a feeling that threatened to poison her heart and contaminate her thoughts.

  If she stepped inside his sister’s house, was she not just as guilty of deceit?

  With a deep sigh, she turned to face the facade and spotted someone watching her from an upstairs window, a young girl petite and delicate of frame with hair as black as coal.

  The scene reminded her of the first time she’d seen Gabriel’s handsome face, peering through his front window. She had thought him cold, heartless and downright rude. In stark contrast, this girl held up a dainty hand and waved, leaving Rebecca no choice but to wave back, no choice now but to knock on the front door.

  A woman no older than twenty opened the door, her warm smile enhanced by hair the shade of wheat on a summer’s day. The loose strands poking out of the mobcap gave the impression she’d yanked it on in a hurry and wasn’t used to answering the door.

  “Can I help you?”

  “My name is Miss Linwood. I am acquainted with Mr. Gabriel Stone. He has asked me to call in and pay my respects to his family.” Rebecca would have to perform some sort of penance for the lies she had told today. Although lately, she seemed to have a weakness for all things sinful.

  “Mr. Stone asked you to call?” the woman said with a shocked expression as though the man they were discussing had been dead for years and must have hollered to her from the grave.

  “He asked me to send his regards to Ariana and to Mrs. Stone,” Rebecca said feeling the need to justify the reason for her visit to a maid. After all, there was always a chance she would close the door in her face.

  The woman examined Rebecca’s attire and after giving a satisfactory nod, welcomed her into the hallway. “Please wait here while I go fetch the mistress,” she said bobbing a half-curtsy.

  As Rebecca stared at the tasteful décor, the girl from the upstairs window appeared on the top stair, her gaze cautious in assessment like any other child when presented with a stranger. Curiosity got the better of her, and she took a hesitant step, her knuckles white where she gripped the handrail for support.

  “You must be Ariana,” Rebecca said offering a kind smile. “I can see you have inherited your brother’s dark hair.”

  Ariana’s eyes widened, and she took another step. “Do you know my brother?” she asked, the admiration in her voice reflected in her eyes.

  “Yes, I know him very well. Who do you think sent me here today?”

  Guilt flared as she remembered Gabriel’s words. He considered them estranged, and so kept his distance. The child’s mother could have told a tale to account for his absence, and Rebecca felt foolish for speaking without thought.

  Ariana smiled. “Mama said I will see him again soon when he is not so busy with his studies. Did he send you here all the way from Egypt?”

  Rebecca thought her heart might break and shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. “No, I have not come from Egypt. But your brother wrote to me and asked me to call.”

  The sound of footsteps hurrying along the hallway caught Rebecca’s attention. She looked up to see the lady of the house, her auburn hair tied in a simple knot that softened her features. Her yellow gown was plain and unadorned. Rebecca got the impression she was a woman unimpressed with frivolities.

  “Ariana, I thought yo
u were upstairs,” she said her blue eyes flashing with mild panic.

  “Forgive me,” Rebecca said inclining her head. “I’m afraid I encouraged her to come down. My name is Rebecca Linwood. I own an Egyptian museum in Coventry Street.”

  “I knew you’d come from Egypt,” Ariana said with a little giggle.

  “I am Sarah Stone,” she said, “won’t you join us for tea?”

  Ariana rushed to the bottom stair. “Oh, do say you’ll stay,” she blurted. “You can tell me all about the Pyramids and —”

  “Ariana,” her mother berated. “We do not pester our guests.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Stone,” Rebecca said giving the child a sly wink. “I would love to take tea with you.”

  Sarah Stone sent her daughter to the kitchen to keep the maid company while she waited for the tea tray, on the understanding she could join them a little later.

  “I can take your bonnet,” Mrs. Stone said escorting Rebecca into the drawing room. “I only keep a small staff as it suits our needs,” she added by way of explanation and gestured to the gold damask chairs. “Thank you for not telling Ariana that her brother lives ten minutes away.”

  Rebecca handed her bonnet to Mrs. Stone, and she placed it on the sideboard. “I can see she admires him a great deal,” she said, patting down the stray curls as she took a seat.

  Sarah Stone sat opposite. “Ariana hasn’t seen Gabriel since their father died. She thinks he is away in Egypt, digging in the sand and riding camels. She has this fanciful notion that he is princely and important. I do not want to shatter her illusion, not just yet.”

  The softly spoken words held a hint of bitterness. and Rebecca felt torn. Part of her wanted to admonish the man she loved for being neglectful, for being so insular. Indeed, she could have kicked him in the shin for not seeing what a treasure he had for a sister.

  But Gabriel was misunderstood. He had let grief rule his heart, and she could not blame him for that.

  “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be so detached,” she said, the desire to defend him overriding everything else. “What others regard as unforgivable can often be justified within our own minds.”

  Sarah considered her for a moment, her hands held together as though in prayer, as the tips of her fingers supported her chin. “May I ask how you are acquainted with Gabriel?”

  They were acquainted in the most intimate way a man and woman could be. “He is a partner in the museum and a very dear friend.”

  “I see. Have you known him long?”

  With her prying questions, Sarah Stone sounded like George. What was she supposed to say, that she had only known him for a week? “We’ve been friends for a while.”

  With a curious hum, Sarah brought her fingers to her lips and tapped gently, before smiling like a mother party to her child’s secrets. “I know Gabriel didn’t ask you to come here. So I wonder, why is it you came?”

  Because she loved him.

  Because she wanted to help him forget the past, to reconnect with his family.

  Because she knew what it felt like to be alone and isolated.

  “I have always believed my half-brothers despised me and thought me the cause of their anguish,” Rebecca said, knowing honesty was the best option. She had told enough lies for one day. “It’s a feeling I’ve come to live with, but I cannot stand back and watch someone else suffer the same injustice. I know Gabriel does not mean to hurt anyone. He has not truly come to terms with his mother’s death, and I think it causes him to be distant.”

  Sarah Stone fell silent for what seemed like an hour, yet it was only for seconds. “We were never in love, his father and I,” she said, gazing past Rebecca’s shoulder. “He was lonely and broken, and I needed his protection. Our partnership served us both well, although Gabriel struggled to accept it. I did everything I could to welcome him,” she continued, her words genuine and not the least bit defensive. “I knew he found it difficult but almost twelve years have passed. I suppose I thought things would change, that he would learn to accept it.”

  Time did not always heal wounds. Resentment often acted as a mask to hide the pain festering away underneath. “I know from experience that sometimes it’s easier to live in the past. The past is familiar. It is where we take comfort. That is why I have come. I want to help him move forward, to have a future, to be happy.”

  “I believe you have set yourself a mammoth task.”

  A light tap on the drawing room door interrupted the intimacy of the moment, and the maid entered carrying a tray. Ariana poked her head around the jamb, and her mother gestured for her to come in.

  “Do you think Gabriel has found anything exciting on his adventures?” Ariana said, coming to stand next to Rebecca’s chair as the maid poured the tea.

  Rebecca considered inviting them to the museum but hesitated. “Well, he did send a package of clay figures for me to display in the museum. Perhaps I could bring one for you to look at.”

  Ariana glanced at her mother. “I have never seen anything from Egypt before. Could Miss Linwood call again?”

  Sarah Stone smiled and nodded. “Miss Linwood is welcome to call again.”

  They conversed about the weather and about Ariana’s birthday. The child giggled with excitement even though it was more than a month away, and when it was time to leave, Sarah escorted Rebecca to the door.

  “If you do decide to tell Gabriel you were here, please tell him I asked after him.”

  Anxiety flared when Rebecca thought of his reaction, and she pushed it aside. “I shall tell him what an angel Ariana is. I shall tell him we need to make room at the museum for a third partner.”

  “You’re very kind,” she replied with a smile. “Does Gabriel know you’re in love with him?”

  Rebecca froze. Was it so obvious? Had some mischievous imp carved the words into her forehead for all to see?

  “Of course not,” she said trying to sound amused. “If he did, I imagine he would be on the first boat to Cairo.”

  Chapter 23

  Rebecca stepped out onto George Street, instinct dragging her gaze away from the row of houses, telling her to look up at the window.

  As suspected, Ariana had rushed upstairs to wave goodbye, her face squashed against the glass as she tried to get Rebecca’s attention. Touched that the child held her in such high regard, Rebecca waved back.

  Bless her.

  Ariana looked a little distraught, a little emotional, but then children were quick to form attachments, and Rebecca got the impression she spent much of her time alone indoors.

  Not wanting to distress the child any further, Rebecca looked away and quickened her pace, keen to be out of her line of sight.

  Although she was in no rush to get home.

  After such a pleasant afternoon, the thought of facing Gabriel filled her with dread. She didn’t want to rouse his anger. She didn’t want to see coldness and disappointment in his eyes, not when —

  Feeling a sudden jolt, Rebecca lurched forward, sucking in a breath as someone barged into her from behind. She glanced over her shoulder; saw the outline of a man walking so close his arm brushed against her back.

  With the pavement being wide enough for three people, she had a good mind to turn around and chastise him for such disgraceful conduct.

  Then she heard his steely voice whisper in her ear, the tone cold and unforgiving as the tip of a sharp object dug into her back. “If you make a sound or so much as glance behind again, I will bury this blade so far into your back you will feel its hilt.”

  The hairs on her nape prickled to attention. The shiver shooting down her spine made her teeth chatter, and her tongue felt thick as she tried to form a response.

  “If it’s money you want, t-then take my reticule,” she said thrusting out her arm in the hope of enticing him away.

  “I don’t want money,” he said with a sneer as he slapped her arm down. “You see the carriage up ahead. I want you to open the door and climb inside.”

  Sh
e contemplated making a dash for it, but with a petticoat and gown flapping around her ankles he would soon catch up with her.

  Guessing the train of her thoughts, he added, “Don’t forget, I know where the little girl lives. It would be a terrible tragedy if something should happen to her.”

  If Rebecca ever got out of this mess, she would punch him on the nose for that comment.

  Coming to an abrupt halt next to the unmarked carriage, she glanced up at the driver in the hope of exchanging a silent plea. But the scrawny man just stared out into the distance, showing no interest in the criminal activities of his master.

  “Get in.”

  Rebecca hesitated. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  He reached around her waist and opened the carriage door. “I said get in.”

  “Miss Linwood. Miss Linwood.”

  The words were a distant echo, a cry, an appeal and Rebecca looked back to see Sarah Stone hurrying down the empty street towards them, waving her hand in the air to draw attention. The man cursed, the string of obscenities sounding vicious, venomous, and he shoved Rebecca into the carriage, climbed in behind her and slammed the door.

  Before they’d had a chance to settle into their seats, the carriage jerked forward, causing them both to stumble, the sound of the knife skittering across the floor capturing their attention.

  With lightning speed, Rebecca dived down, desperate to be the first to reach the blade. The tips of her fingers grazed against the metal. A mad scramble ensued. Using all of his weight, he crushed her against the seat as he knocked her onto her side, the rush of disappointment almost painful when he wrapped his fingers around the handle.

  With a secure grip, he waved the knife at her face, and she scampered back up onto the seat. “Try that again and you’ll have an ugly scar. One to remind you of your stupidity,” he said as his mouth thinned into a menacing line, his eyes still shielded by the brim of his hat.

  She imagined the reflection from the sharpened edge, bright and glaring as it sliced through her skin, sawed through her flesh, the scorching pain like nothing she’d ever felt before. When his arm twitched she winced, but he lowered the knife, and her shoulders sagged as she breathed a sigh.