A Curse of the Heart

“My museum is the real world to me,” she said, determined to make it clear she wasn’t some pawn to be sacrificed for the greater good. “This … this place is just a cesspit of inequity. Perhaps I should pin a tag to my gown that says — one hundred and fifty guineas, but beware of minor defaults.”

George waved his hand in the air. “You’re being ridiculous. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“Happy?” she mocked. “Can you not hear the hypocrisy in your own words? You wish me to marry a man I do not love, so long as he can provide material comforts and overlook the nature of my birth. To you, that is an admirable choice: to sell one’s soul for wealth and respectability. Well, I would rather join the urchins scouring the streets, begging for scraps.”

“You cannot condemn me for trying to legitimise your position.”

Rebecca sucked in a breath.

There was no reasoning with this man, she thought. “I am suddenly relieved I am illegitimate. The irony of legitimacy is that it appears to be defined by a lack of morals and a severe lack of integrity.”

Without another word, she pushed past him and stormed out through the open doors onto to the terrace, pacing back and forth until her breathing slowed to its usual rate.

Thankfully, George chose not to follow and so she took a moment to look out over the garden, placing the palms of her hands on the stone wall and relishing the feel of the cool breeze.

She should never have agreed to come.

Her thoughts drifted back to earlier in the day, to the way Gabriel Stone had devoured her with his sinful eyes, to the way her body responded so eagerly to him. Tonight, numerous gentlemen had looked at her in a similar way. Yet it felt different, unnatural.

It felt wrong.

Gabriel affected her like no one else before. He had found a way into her heart and even though she was alone on the terrace it felt as though a part of him was still with her.

Was it possible to develop deep feelings after just a few short days, she wondered?

The thought that he would not be lounging on her chaise when she returned home, caused a pain in her throat, making it feel uncomfortable to breathe. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure an image of him.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Wellford.”

A deep, husky tone penetrated her reverie, the image of Gabriel’s mischievous grin dissolving into nothing as she opened her eyes.

Rebecca swung round to face the gentleman who, with his black hair and hawk-like eyes, had all the appeal of Satan.

“My name is Miss Linwood,” she said haughtily.

“Then accept my apologies, Miss Linwood.” He stepped forward in the slippery way men do when their words are not in accordance with their lecherous intentions. “I saw you were alone and thought you might like to dance.”

He moved closer and took her gloved hand, brought it to his lips and held it there for longer than deemed appropriate.

“I’m afraid I do not dance,” she said, pulling her hand free, struggling to keep her tone even, as his eyes appeared cold and detached, despite his friendly protestations. “And my brother is waiting for me.”

As she stepped aside to walk around him, he moved to block her exit. “Your brother is otherwise occupied. I, on the other hand, am not.” His beady, black eyes fell to her lips before dropping to the exposed curve of her bosom.

“As I have already told you,” she said swallowing away her fear. “I do not dance.”

“Good. As it was not really dancing I had in mind.”

Rebecca lifted her chin. “It is not prudent to be so forward with a lady, sir.”

He gave a devilish grin. “Now, Miss Linwood, can you really call yourself a lady? In my experience, those with questionable lineage tend to have questionable morals.”

This man was a scoundrel, a rogue. Suddenly, the glittering lights and crowded ballroom seemed much more the better option.

When Rebecca tried to push past him, he grabbed her arm. “Come now, there is nothing to fear. I suggest we go out into the garden and find something to titillate our fancy.”

“What I suggest is that you remove your hand from the lady’s arm,” Gabriel Stone growled, his threatening tone slicing through the air. “Unless you’re happy to choke on your own teeth.”

Rebecca’s desperate gaze met Gabriel’s and she drank in the glorious sight of him, let the warm feeling flood her body, banishing all her doubts and fears.