A Curse of the Heart

Rebecca put her hand on his cheek. “I shall tell you the answer, Gabriel, but not now. You must be patient. There is something I need to do. Will you wait here while I go and get the parcel?”

“The parcel?” he said, a little confused. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

She had distracted his mind, his gaze returning to the present, dragging him back from the dreamy place, exactly as she’d intended.

With Gabriel, there was always an inner struggle. And she could sense those opposed feelings now: relief because they had changed the subject and an impatience to know the answer that had plagued him for so long.

“Perhaps it could wait until tomorrow,” he said, his impatience winning the battle.

“It cannot wait,” she said, moving to the table to pull the crystal top from the decanter before refilling both glasses. With her glass in hand, she walked over to the door. “Give me a moment and I shall be right back.”

Rebecca returned to her chamber, leaving Gabriel to sit alone with his thoughts. Sorrow had kept the excitement at bay and the shock of knowing he had struggled all these years on his own.

Her mind conjured an image of a room filled with glass jars, of organs bobbing about in a strange brown liquid. She wondered what sad thoughts drifted through his mind when he looked at them.

Organs!

In all her wild imaginings, she would never have guessed that. The fear and apprehension in his eyes made her heart ache. Perhaps he expected her to find the notion weird, to find him abhorrent. But his declaration had made her want to scurry across the table and jump into his arms, to kiss him, declare undying love and ease his torment.

Even now, she hoped she was strong enough to bring her plan to fruition. Gabriel needed her tonight, and she would not disappoint.

Lifting the lid from the box, she stared at the emerald-green gown; put her hand up through the diaphanous material, which without the modesty of a chemise and petticoat was completely transparent.

Her mother had worn it respectably. Thanks to Madame Coulter, the hole was unnoticeable, and Rebecca would wear it on its own. Sinfully. Her naked body visible, and draped in an emerald shimmer.

In a quick flurry of activity, she undressed. Her hands trembled as she let the material glide down over her bare skin. Despite drinking more claret than usual, she swallowed what remained in the glass, let the warmth infuse her body as she pulled the remaining pins from her hair.

Nerves held her at the chamber door.

What was she thinking; she was a novice, unskilled in seduction? How would she know what to do? Then she thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult, not if she followed her heart, not if she let desire work its magic.

With that in mind, she crept along the corridor and lingered in the doorway. Gabriel was still sitting in the chair, cradling his glass, his head bent low as he examined the blood-red liquid, swishing it around and waiting for it to settle.

Sucking in a breath, she tiptoed into the room. “In my excitement, I couldn’t help but try it on.”

She had to purse her lips when he glanced up, as his eyes grew wide and raced over every inch of her body. She noticed him swallow and watched his mouth open and close as he struggled to speak.

“I … I see you saved the best until last,” he finally said, moistening his lips.

“Do you like it?” she asked, her tone husky as his gaze fell to her breasts, to the perky nipples that were so pleased he approved.

“To say I like it would be something of an understatement. This is by far the best surprise of the day.”

“Come,” she said, taking him by the hands and pulling him to his feet.

He drew her into an embrace, his fingers skimming the curve of her hip, causing the sheer material to tickle and tease her sensitive body.

“No,” she whispered as he lowered his head to claim her mouth, “not yet. Tonight we will do things a little differently.”

He raised a mischievous brow, intrigue flashing in his eyes, banishing the pain and sorrow. “That sounds interesting.”

A pang of doubt flared, and she tried her best to ignore it. “I can promise you it will be,” she said taking his hand and leading him down the dimly lit corridor, aware that the view from behind was utterly scandalous.

She led him into her chamber, stopping to lock the door before pulling him closer to the bed.

“So, now I’m your prisoner, what do you intend to do with me?” The tone of his voice suggested he was as eager as she to play these games, and Rebecca wanted nothing more than to please him.

“Don’t worry,” she laughed, “nothing torturous, but I am going to decide what happens. I am going to seduce you, and you are going to stand there and let me.” Her voice sounded confident now, like the voice of a seasoned courtesan.