A Curse of the Heart

George gave a satisfied smile. “I’m not sure Rebecca would see it that way. She seemed most upset when I told her I gave permission for you to act as her chaperone.” He smiled again wallowing in his own arrogance, knowing the news caused Gabriel’s throat to constrict. “She called to see me this morning,” he added.

He was lying. Gabriel had left her wearing nothing but her wrapper. His scent clinging to her skin, her lips swollen and tender, her face flushed from physical exertion.

Frederick frowned. “What do you mean you gave him permission to act as a chaperone?”

“I do not need his permission to do anything,” Gabriel countered. “But we are straying from the subject.” He turned his attention to Frederick. “So your brother led you to believe that frightening Miss Linwood would in some way help her. It still doesn’t explain why you destroyed her mother’s painting.”

Frederick shot to his feet. “How many times must I tell you? I did not touch the damn painting. I knew nothing about it until an hour ago. I didn’t even know there was a painting.” He gave a mocking snort and jerked his head at Gabriel. “Besides, it’s your fault we went there in the first place.”

“It’s my fault?” Gabriel said prodding himself in the chest with his finger. “Am I to get the blame for every sorry mistake? Will no one accept responsibility for their own stupidity?”

Frederick threw himself back down in the chair. “We saw you dancing with her at the Chelton’s. I said you had a rakish look in your eye and, by living alone, Rebecca was courting trouble. I said she needed to understand the danger she was putting herself in. We wanted to check you’d not taken advantage of her, and she had gone home alone.”

Gabriel paused, hearing the word that had never troubled him before, but now drove fear into his heart. “You said we. To whom do you refer?”

“S-surely you can’t think Pennington had anything to do with it,” Frederick stuttered. “The man’s a decent fellow and was simply helping me out. It was just a bit of drunken foolery.”

Drunken foolery! Gabriel would never forget the look of sheer terror in Rebecca’s eyes, the wet tendrils of hair stuck to her face, the way she clutched her stomach as she gasped for breath.

“Whoever damaged the painting has a personal grudge against Rebecca,” he said with vehemence. “Think. Did Pennington say anything to you that sounded odd or strange?”

“No. He was surprised she was my sister, surprised she used a different name.”

“He helped you break into our sister’s house,” Wellford said. “He must be a good friend and yet I have never heard of him. Who are his parents?”

Frederick shrugged. “How should I know? I met him at the card table a couple of months ago. Why should I give a stuff who his parents are? I’m not a chit looking to make a respectable match on the marriage mart.”

Gabriel sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Did you leave him alone while you were in her house?”

Frederick glanced up, his eyes vacant while he revisited the memory. “Yes. He was on his own for a time but —”

The riotous commotion in the hallway caught everyone’s attention; no one was surprised when Cosgrove rapped on the door and entered. “Mrs. Stone is here to see you and has forced her way in.”

What the hell did she want? If it was money, why did she not just write to him as she always did?

“Mrs. Stone?” Wellford said, trying to look amused.

“My stepmother,” Gabriel sighed. “It is not a good time, Cosgrove. Ask her to wait in the parlour or better still ask her to call again tomorrow.” He had enough to deal with without listening to Sarah’s woes.

“I am afraid that won’t be possible, sir.”

“Gabriel,” Sarah panted, ducking underneath Cosgrove’s arm and rushing over to the desk, leaning on the edge for support. “Quick, you must hurry.”

All the gentlemen stood, and Gabriel offered the woman his chair. She was trembling, her eyes wild with panic.

“Is it Ariana?” he asked. “Has something happened?”

Sarah shook her head and glanced at the two gentlemen opposite as though seeing them for the first time. “Forgive me. I did not know you had company. Gabriel, I didn’t know what else to do.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and she sniffed.

“Allow me,” George said offering his handkerchief. “I am Lord Wellford, and this is my brother Frederick. We can leave the room if this is a private matter.”

Sarah patted her face and then swallowed. “It’s Miss Linwood,” she blurted.

“Rebecca!” all three gentlemen cried simultaneously, all stepping closer to surround the hysterical woman.

“What does it have to do with Rebecca?” Gabriel asked, wondering how his stepmother even knew her name.

“At first, I thought that Ariana, well, that she was just being dramatic,” Sarah said, putting her hand to her chest, “and in her excitement had simply imagined it.”