The Virgin’s Secret

by Victoria Alexander

  “You cannot go off doing precisely as you please without concern for the consequences.”

  “I danced with him, Nathanial.” She shook off his arm. “There is nothing more to it than that.” She hesitated. “For the moment.”

  Apprehension caught at his throat. “What do you mean?”

  “Lord Rathbourne has offered to let me see his collections.”

  “To my knowledge, that is an offer he makes rarely if ever, and never lightly. Don’t you find that suspicious?”

  “Not at all.” She tossed her head back. “It makes perfect sense. He wishes to employ me—”

  He drew his brows together. “To do what?”

  “To catalogue his collections.” A determined light shone in her eye.

  “Alone? In his house?”

  “I imagine there will be servants about. And Lady Rathbourne.”

  “Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

  “You what?”

  He glared at her. “I cannot allow you to do something so reckless, so potentially perilous—”

  “Nonsense. I know Lord Rathbourne has a certain reputation but I can’t imagine I’d be in any real peril. Besides,” her eyes narrowed dangerously, “you cannot forbid me to do anything.”

  “And yet…” He crossed his arms over his chest. He knew she would not take this well but it scarcely mattered. Injuring her sensibilities was well worth it to ensure her safety. “…I am.”

  “You have no right. Or are you going to threaten to have me arrested again?”

  “If necessary to keep you safe…” He nodded. “…I would do exactly that.”

  “I see. So now you show your true colors.”

  “My true colors?” Anger raised his voice. “Let us speak of truth for a moment.” This was treacherous ground but right now he didn’t care. “The truth is that no matter what plans you may have had for your life, no man in his right mind who did what your brother did would let you assist him in his work. Go to the places he went. The truth is that while you are brilliant and knowledgeable, you are still a woman. A beautiful woman, which would only be more of a problem, headstrong and stubborn and independent as well, but a mere woman nonetheless, and it’s past time you understood that.”

  She stared at him. “I thought my independent nature was one of the things you loved about me?”

  “I was wrong!”

  “I suspected as much.” She sniffed. “A man like you has no understanding of the word love. You’ve probably said it hundreds of times to dozens of different women.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Hundreds.”

  “What?”

  “Hundreds of different women. Why not say that? You barely know me at all but that’s what you think of me.”

  “I know men of your nature.” She shrugged. “I have seen any number of men exactly like you. Men who use women as playthings. You are just like—”

  “Your brother?”

  Shock washed across her face.

  “Understand this, Gabriella, there have been any number of women in my life, but none that didn’t want from me exactly what I wanted from them.” He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. “And I have never before used the word ‘love’ in any manner whatsoever with any of them.”

  She glared up at him. “Oh?”

  “Furthermore, I am not anything like your brother in any number of ways I will refrain from mentioning now. But know this, Gabriella, I would never abandon you.”

  She gasped. “He didn’t—”

  “And I would give up my own life before I would allow you to come to any harm.” His gaze locked with hers and he watched as her anger faded to acceptance, to belief, and then to something warmer, deeper, more important. His heart thudded in his chest. What had this woman done to him? Damn it all if he didn’t indeed love her.

  “Gabriella,” he moaned, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  “He said you could come,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Now is not the time,” he murmured. He had no idea what she meant, nor did he care. All he wanted was to press—

  “Lord Rathbourne.” She pulled away from him. “He said you could come. To see his collections.”

  “Excellent…” He drew a steadying breath. The last thing he wanted was to talk, but apparently he had no choice. “As I had no intention of allowing you to go alone. As for this alleged position—”

  “He told me…” She paused as if choosing her words. “He told me he had arranged to have my brother’s seal stolen.”

  “He told you that?” The admission caught him unawares. Obviously Rathbourne would never have admitted such a thing if he had the seal.

  She nodded.

  “By Javier Gutierrez?”

  “He didn’t mention a name.” Her brows drew together. “But something went awry and he did not get the seal.”

  “Which doesn’t mean Gutierrez didn’t steal it.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “No idea whatsoever.”

  “But, as everyone else is in London,” she began, excitement in her voice, “it stands to reason that Gutierrez—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Gutierrez has no legitimate standing with the society or anyone else. He masquerades as an archeologist but he is a thief, nothing more than that. Admittedly, he is knowledgeable about the artifacts he procures for whoever will pay his price, but he will not show his face here. He is far too clever for that.”

  “Nathanial.” Her forehead furrowed. “Why would my brother show the seal to a man like that in the first place?”

  Because they were two of a kind. Because he was already touched by madness. Which only begged the question, then, of why he had shown it to Nate and Quint.

  “I don’t know,” he said simply.

  She paused. “Have you considered the possibility that perhaps my brother was mistaken about those he suspected? That the seal might have been taken by someone unknown to him? By someone whose name we might never know?”

  His gaze searched hers. She wanted reassurance that their efforts would not be for nothing. He couldn’t give her that. He drew a deep breath. “Are you prepared to end it, then? To put this behind you and go on with your life? To admit defeat?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  He smiled. “Well, then.”

  “I should be getting back.” Renewed determination sparked in her eyes and she started toward the courtyard door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I am returning to the ballroom. I don’t often have the chance to dance, and it is one of the few things I have always done simply for the joy of it. Besides, one never knows what kind of information one might acquire during a dance.” She glanced back at him. “And don’t think I have forgiven you for your high-handed manner or the vile things you have said.”

  “The truth is often vile.”

  She ignored him. “I simply have other matters that concern me at the moment.”

  “And my manner is in your best interest!”

  “Hah.” She scoffed and stepped into the corridor.

  He started after her and pulled up short. Damnation, he was too late.

  “Miss Montini?” A tall, handsome man stood in her path.

  “Yes?” she said coolly.

  “I was afraid you had decided to leave before we had our dance,” he said. Bloody hell. He would have recognized that accent, if not the face, anywhere.

  “Our dance?” She shook her head. “My apologies but I fear I don’t remember promising you a dance.”

  “Then my heart will surely break.” The American chuckled. “Last year we only danced once, and you promised to save a dance for me this year. Unless, of course…” He paused. “You’re not married, are you?”

  She laughed. “No, I am most certainly not married.”

  Not yet!

  “Excellent.” He offered his arm. “Then shall we?”

  “Yes, of course. But I am sorry. This has been a very
long year and I’m afraid I don’t recall your name.”

  “Yet another wound to my heart, but in truth, I’m not surprised. I was only one of a multitude of partners you favored last year.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and Nate resisted the urge to leap after them and wrench the intruder from Gabriella’s side. “Allow me then to introduce myself once again. I am Alistair McGowan.”

  “Mr. McGowan.” Surprise sounded in her voice, and she cast a smug smile over her shoulder at Nate. “There is no one I would rather dance with.”

  Nate clenched then relaxed his fists at his sides. He certainly wasn’t jealous of Rathbourne, but the viscount’s attentions to Gabriella were a cause of great concern. The man had enough money and power to do precisely as he pleased. The very idea of Gabriella going to his house alone, being in his employ, sent tremors of fear through him. There was little he could do to protect her there. Admittedly, there was probably little he could do to keep her away.

  But Alistair McGowan was a different matter entirely. From what he knew of the man, and the few times they’d crossed one another’s path, he was a decent enough sort. For an American. He no more seriously considered McGowan a suspect in the theft of the seal than he did Quint. If McGowan had the seal, he probably came by it in a relatively honest manner.

  He stared after Gabriella and McGowan. The American inclined his head toward her, and a faint ripple of laughter drifted back to him. He was making her laugh? Damned colonist.

  Didn’t McGowan realize she was taken? Didn’t she realize she was taken?

  Of course not. He had barely begun to realize it himself.

  Sixteen

  My apologies once again, Mr. McGowan.” Gabriella smiled up at him, which wasn’t at all difficult.

  He was an adequate dancer, or at least she was in no fear of having her feet trampled, as so often happened at this particular gathering. McGowan was handsome as well, with blond hair and broad shoulders. He had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, crinkled at the corners, no doubt from staring across the desert sands. Wickedly attractive, was the phrase that came to mind. Good. When Nathanial watched her dance with this man, perhaps he would indeed be jealous. Not that she cared. “I can’t imagine how I might have forgotten you.”

  “It has been a long year,” he said with a smile. “I would have been surprised if you had remembered. It was, after all, only one dance and not as if we had shared a kiss in the moonlight.”

  She stared at him. “Why did you say that?”

  “Because, Miss Montini,” he grinned, “you make my thoughts to turn to things like kisses in the moonlight.”

  “Are all Americans this forward?”

  “Yes,” he said in a somber manner, though amusement twinkled in his eyes. “As well as charming, each and every one of us. Even the ladies.” He thought for a moment. “Although they do, all in all, tend to be prettier than the gentlemen.” He leaned toward her ear in a confidential manner. “We much prefer it that way.”

  She laughed. “I must confess, I didn’t expect you to be so dashing.”

  “No?” He held her a bit firmer and performed a complicated step to avoid another couple who appeared to be careening out of control. She followed him easily. Perhaps he was better than adequate. “You didn’t expect a man you think might be a thief to be enjoyable company?”

  Caution edged her voice. “How did you know about that?”

  He shrugged. “Word does tend to travel, Miss Montini. And while you have my condolences for your brother’s death, I assure you I had nothing to do with the disappearance of his seal.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. It was one thing to accuse Lord Rathbourne of misdeeds. He was, after all, a not especially pleasant person. And quite another to voice her suspicion of Alistair McGowan to his handsome, smiling face. Still, she had no reason to trust him.

  “And why should I believe you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s harder to prove one’s innocence than one’s guilt, I suppose.” He heaved a frustrated sigh. “Forgive me, Miss Montini. You should know there is nothing I would like better than to continue this dance, but I fear I am not especially good at dancing and talking at the same time. One takes all my concentration, leaving the other lacking in substance if not style. And I suspect you have a great number of questions for me. Would you mind if we stopped dancing to talk?”

  “Not at all.” She smiled, and he escorted her off the floor, to chairs arranged by a potted palm. While in plain view, the plant still provided a modicum of privacy. She took a seat and he settled in the chair beside her.

  “I ran across your brother more than a year ago now.” McGowan began without preamble. “You should be aware, although we had known each other for years, it was in no more than a casual manner. We were nothing more than acquaintances, really. We would cross paths on occasion, share a meal together, trade a story or two, that sort of thing.”

  “Go on.”

  “He had recently found the seal, and needless to say, was extremely excited about it.”

  She leaned forward. “Where exactly did he find it, Mr. McGowan?”

  “He never said.” He thought for a moment. “At the time, that struck me as somewhat odd, but your brother always did keep things like that to himself. At least that was my experience with him.”

  She nodded. “He was always reticent to give specific details about his finds.”

  “Yes, well, many of us are.” McGowan shrugged. “It’s a very competitive field, Miss Montini. It’s not at all unusual to hear of someone who has lost a find because they opened their mouth to the wrong person. Still, it’s often hard to keep one’s enthusiasm to oneself. The Ambropia seal was the kind of discovery that elicited that type of excitement.”

  “I fear I am somewhat confused. If you and he were not especially close, why did he show you the seal?”

  “Proximity played a part. We happened to be in the same place at the same time. The thrill of discovery is often greater when one can share it with someone who will appreciate its magnitude. We all have a tendency to brag about such things. There’s little that warms a competitive heart more than seeing a flicker of envy in the eyes of a colleague.” He paused for a moment. “Beyond that, your brother and I shared a similar passion. I too wish to find a city lost to the ages.”

  She raised a brow. “Ambropia?”

  “No, although if a clue to its location fell into my hands, I certainly wouldn’t walk away from it.” He chuckled. “No, Miss Montini, there are men who search for Ambropia and Hattusha and Knossos today much as they once searched for Babylon and Troy and Ephesus. They do so because there is something about a city lost in time, abandoned, forgotten, relegated to myth and legend, that grabs one’s imagination. And buries itself in one’s soul.” He glanced at her. “Are you familiar with Shandihar?”

  She nodded. “It was on the silk route in southern Turkey, Asia Minor, the crossroads of the world at one time. Reputed to be a city of great wealth and glory, it was described in writings from the sixth century. It is believed the people of Shandihar worshiped only one god, or rather, goddess—Ereshkigal, the queen of the night.”

  He stared at her. “How do you know all that?”

  “I remember everything I’ve ever read.” She smiled. “It’s a useful skill.”

  “I can well imagine,” he murmured, studying her with a mixture of admiration and possibly envy.

  “About Shandihar?” she prompted.

  “Ah yes. The discovery of Shandihar, Miss Montini, is the quest that has captured my heart. And I will find her one day.” Absolute confidence shone in his eyes. “It is my destiny, I have no doubt of that.”

  “At least you know Shandihar did indeed exist.” Gabriella blew a long breath. “The writings about Ambropia are so obscure, the very name of the goddess who protected it is still as yet unknown. She is only known as the Virgin Goddess.”

  “And the location of the city is the Virgin’s Secret.” He nodded. “Which i
s why your brother’s find was so important a discovery. Never before has there been reference either to Ambropia or the Virgin’s Secret on so ancient an artifact.”

  “No, Ambropia was only mentioned by the Greeks, and those writings are vague and minimal.”

  “That the symbols for both the city and the Virgin’s Secret were found on an Akkadian seal would seem to indicate that the city was more than mere legend.”

  “One would hope, but quite honestly, Mr. McGowan,” she met his gaze firmly, “that does not concern me. If my brother were still alive, I am certain he would want to pursue the search for the city itself. I want only to recover the seal and give my brother the credit due him. I don’t want him to be remembered as…” She paused to find the right words. “I want to restore his reputation. His good name.”

  “His good name. Yes, of course,” McGowan murmured. His gaze slid past her, then returned to meet hers. “Your quest strikes me as both noble and honorable, but I do hope you understand there are others to whom those words do not apply. Miss Montini.” He stared into her eyes. “Ambropia would be a find that would bring untold fame and fortune and glory to its discoverers. Your brother’s seal is the first step toward that discovery. There are those who would not hesitate to use whatever means possible to acquire it.”

  “I am well aware of that, Mr. McGowan.”

  “Then you are aware as well that your journey could be a dangerous one.”

  “I am.” She nodded. “But I’m not worried.”

  “Perhaps you should be. I wish I could be of further help.” He grinned. “Indeed I can think of nothing I would like better than to help you.”

  “Why, Mr. McGowan.” She widened her eyes in an innocent manner. “Are you trying to sway me with flirtatious banter?”

  “I am trying.” He smiled, then sobered. “You have no reason to believe me, but I do not have the seal.” He paused. “Nor do I know who does.”

  “And would you tell me if you did?”

  “Ah, Miss Montini.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. “I daresay I would tell you very nearly anything to see gratitude light up those lovely blue eyes of yours.”