A Curse of the Heart

“I’m not sulking.” Gabriel pushed the large crate against the wall and brushed the dust from his hands. “I’m just wondering why we are sorting them into two separate piles.”

He had spent the last hour rummaging through crates and moving boxes. Now, the room looked neat and orderly while his mind was in complete disarray.

It wasn’t anger that troubled him, or the frustration of sitting in Rebecca’s office thinking all sorts of unimaginable things, only to find she was out shopping. It wasn’t even the fact that his weak heart had skipped a few beats when presented with the fine pair of pistols. Although he would track down Mr. Cutter and advise him against selling weaponry to a woman. It was his reaction to her gift, to the leather-bound book, that was what he kept replaying over in his head.

He’d been given gifts before, always books on Egypt, always books to help with his studies. So why was this one any different? Why did all the muscles and bones in his body feel soft and limp?

In those short hours, while she ran about in a desperate bid to find a way to protect herself, she had stopped and thought about him. The gift was to please him, to make him happy, to show she cared. It had nothing to do with advancing his education and the thought caused his heart to ache with a level of tenderness he had never experienced before.

“It will all become clear,” she said, and it took him a moment to realise she had answered the question about the separate piles. Removing two clay figures from a small box, she added, “I think you can put these on your list. The ones I have on display are much finer examples.”

“You’re being very secretive. It makes me think I should be worried.” He dipped the nib into the inkwell that sat on top of one of the crates and scratched a few notes while she repackaged the item.

“There’s no need to worry. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner when there are no distractions.” She pointed to the wall behind him. “Put this box over there to the right, as they are all the items on your list. It will be easier now they’re all separated.”

Gabriel nodded, feeling more like the hired help than an expert in Egyptian antiquities. Indeed, his muscles ached, he was hungry, dirty and his erratic emotions made him feel like a bear with a thorn in his paw.

“Right,” she said with a satisfied smile, thrusting her hands on her hips as she surveyed their work. “We should wash before dinner, and I will quickly change.”

Gabriel brushed his hand down his dusty breeches. “I’m afraid I don’t have that luxury, so you will just have to accept me as I am.”

She stepped closer, close enough to rest her hand on his chest. “Oh, I wouldn’t change you for the world,” she said before sweeping out of the room.

Dinner consisted of roast duck with artichokes, the platter large enough to feed four.

“Either Mrs. James knows I’m staying for dinner or she is trying to fatten you up in the hope of dissuading me from ravishing you.”

“I think it is a little late for her to worry about my virtue, don’t you?” she said from the opposite end of the table.

Gabriel should have felt guilty for robbing her future husband of that pleasure, yet he felt ecstatic. The idea of any other man claiming the right roused murderous thoughts.

“You mean it is a case of closing the stable door after the horse has bolted,” he said using a common analogy.

Rebecca smiled at him. “Well, this horse has no intention of returning to the stable. She has no intention of looking back as she is far happier running freely through the fields.”

Her words conjured an image of him lying his fiery-haired beauty down in a lush green meadow, of him riding her until he was free from the past, free from the curse that plagued him. “You make freedom sound so tempting,” he said, his tone conveying a seductive lilt.

“Then turn your back on it all and run with me, Gabriel,” she said softly, coming round the table to refill his glass.

My God, how he wanted to. If only it were possible. If only he were a different man.

“Let me do that,” he said gesturing to the glass, dragging his thoughts from a dream-like state back to the present.

“You are my guest, and I am here to serve.”

He watched her glide back to her seat before taking a large mouthful of claret. She shook visibly from the potency of the alcohol, and it occurred to him she was using it for courage.

“Are you going to tell me why we’ve made two lists? Why the storeroom contains two separate stacks of boxes and crates?” he said, guessing this was the reason she gulped her wine.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, yes. Well, other than the last parcel, I do have another surprise.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Will I need a large shot of brandy?”

She bit down on her lip like a naughty little imp. “That might be a good idea.”

He muttered a curse. “Rebecca, it was a joke. Please tell me I’m not going to have something else to worry about?”

“No, not at all,” she said shaking her head. “I rather hope you will be excited. You see, I have decided to sell all of the items on your list. They are surplus to requirements and I need the money.”