A Curse of the Heart

“Did Lord Wellford pay you?” Gabriel interrupted.

Mr. Pearce nodded and scrunched up his face as though the words forming in his mouth were painful. “He … he gave me ten pounds.”

Miss Linwood threw her hands up in the air. “Ten pounds! Is that the price of a lady’s sanity?”

“I have a family. What was I supposed to do?”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “You were supposed to act honourably out of respect for your patron. Am I to understand Wellford gave you the ancient scroll?”

Mr. Pearce nodded. “He said it was a copy of an old curse. He said Miss Linwood would be more inclined to believe it.”

“Right,” Miss Linwood said, banging her hands on the desk. “Mr. Pearce. You will go to the storeroom and clear up the mess. With your ten pounds, I suggest you pay for someone to come and fix the hole in my ceiling. That is if you wish to continue working here.”

Gabriel gaped in astonishment. “You’re not letting him stay?”

“I shall decide his fate when I have spoken to Lord Wellford. Now, be on your way, Mr. Pearce, before I change my mind.”

The man scurried from the room as though wolves were biting at his heels.

“Surely, you’re not going to let him stay,” Gabriel repeated, as he was struggling to believe how anyone could be so lenient. He had wanted to thrust his fist down the man’s throat in the hope of pulling out his missing lip.

“I do not mind saying this to you, Mr. Stone, but my head is in such a tizzy I am not sure what is going on.” She flopped back down in the chair and let out a deep sigh. “I thank you for all your help. You must think me rather foolish for believing in a curse.”

“On the contrary,” he said. “When I first heard the noises, I was tempted to believe it myself. Had the scroll been written in another language, then I’m sure I would have been more inclined to agree with you.”

It was not a lie. Well, perhaps it was a small exaggeration.

“Talking of the scroll, I had best go and remove it from the crate. I intend to feed it to Lord Wellford for luncheon in the hope he chokes on it.” She smiled at him, and the world seemed suddenly brighter. “I’m sure you will be relieved to get back to your studies now the matter is resolved. I have wasted far too much of your time.”

Gabriel waited to feel the burning in his chest, the craving that tugged at his stomach whenever he thought of his work. But for some reason, it did not come. Perhaps his mind was so preoccupied with this tempting beauty he had lost sight of what was important. The only way to correct that was to immerse himself in his books.

Which was why he was somewhat shocked when he said, “I will come with you when you visit Lord Wellford. It would not hurt to let him believe we are partners. At least for the time being.”

Her eyes widened. “I could not ask you to do that,” she said, although a look of relief flashed across her face.

“But only if you think I may be of some use, Miss Linwood,” he added, in the hope of appeasing the independent side of her character. “I said I would help you until the matter is concluded and I am a man of my word.”

“Well, at least if you’re there, then there is no chance of him locking me in his cellar while he hurries off to summon a suitor.”

Gabriel glanced down at his dusty coat. “I will need to change out of these clothes and shall return with my carriage.”

“You have a carriage?” she said with some surprise.

“My father was the youngest son of a viscount. Consequently, I have money, but no title.”

Miss Linwood looked up at him as though he had sprouted horns. “How wonderful. So, presumably, you have an uncle or a cousin who is a viscount.”

“An uncle,” he nodded, but he recalled only seeing him once since his father’s death.

“So when you say you are on your own, you mean you have no siblings,” she clarified.

Gabriel swallowed to clear the lump from his throat.

“Like you, I do have family to speak of,” he said, choosing not to answer her question directly, as he did not want to lie to her. “But I prefer to be alone.”

Chapter 9

“You’re certain Lord Wellford will see you?” Mr. Stone said as the carriage rumbled along Compton Street on its way to Bedford Square.