A Curse of the Heart
“Imagined what?” Gabriel asked, his blood pumping so quickly through his veins he feared he would lash out.
“Miss Linwood took tea with us. When she left, Ariana rushed to her room to wave to her from the window. I heard her banging, heard her trying to lift the sash, shouting she’d seen a man watching the house and he had followed Miss Linwood down the street.” Sarah took a gasp of air. “The child was terrified. So I went out onto George Street in the hope of spotting her, in the hope of reassuring the child.”
“Did you see her?” Wellford asked with some impatience.
“Oh, Gabriel. I saw the gentleman approach her, saw him guide her to his carriage. I called out to her, and she turned. Her face was white, ashen and then he pushed her inside, jumped in behind her and slammed the door. I ran, Gabriel. I ran as fast I could, but they were gone.”
The pain was intense, sharp — stabbing him in the stomach, in the heart, robbing him of his breath.
He rounded the table with lightning speed, his fist clenched and ready to end the life of anyone who got in his way. He grabbed Frederick by his coat and pulled him into his chest until their noses were touching. “You had better start bloody well talking and quick. I want to know everything about this Pennington, who he is, where he lives, what he said to you.”
“It can’t be him,” Frederick said yanking his lapel free and straightening his coat. “He didn’t know who Rebecca was until I pointed her out at the Chelton’s.”
Sarah Stone started sobbing, and George went to her side to offer comfort. “I suggest you tell Stone everything he wants to know, Freddie, else I’ll throttle you myself.”
Gabriel strode to the door and hollered Cosgrove, running out into the hall when he heard the slow click of shoes on the wooden floor. “Tell Higson to ready my carriage and to wait out front. Tell him to hurry.”
“You can explain everything to me on the way,” Gabriel said returning to the room. He scoured the desk for a weapon, finding an old quill knife, wishing he was as sensible as Rebecca and had a pistol in the top drawer. “We will start by visiting his lodgings or his house or wherever the hell he lives.”
“What could he possibly want with Miss Linwood?” Sarah asked.
“I have no idea,” Gabriel said, struggling to keep calm. If he were to lose Rebecca, well, the thought was so painful he could not give it merit.
“But I will bleed Frederick dry until I find out.”
Chapter 25
Higson raced through the streets at breakneck speed, the carriage swaying to and fro, the four occupants inside forced to hold on to the straps for fear of tumbling into a giant heap.
Gabriel turned to Freddie. “You said Chesterfield Street. Do you know what number?”
“No, but it’s on the corner of Curzon. I’ll know it when I see it.” He glanced out of the window and then turned back. “Look, I still think you’ve got this all wrong. I’m certain Pennington doesn’t even own a carriage. He’s a decent fellow and has helped me out a number of times.” He gave an amused snort. “Perhaps Rebecca has taken a lover, and we’re chasing about London over some silly tiff. I bet they’re cuddled up in his carriage, and that’s why he shoved her in with such gusto.”
“Rebecca has not taken a lover,” Gabriel snapped, tugging on the leather strap with such force it was in danger of being ripped from its moorings.
“How do you know?” Freddie asked defensively. “Rebecca always flouts the rules. She’s far too independent for her own good. I wouldn’t be surprised if —”
“Miss Linwood is not entertaining a lover,” Sarah interjected. Gabriel met her gaze, expecting to feel a sense of awkwardness that would force him to look away. Instead, he was surprised to find a glimmer of affection in her eyes, a look he did not deserve. “Why would she,” Sarah continued, “when she is in love with Gabriel?”
Freddie scoffed, and Gabriel’s heart slammed against his ribs like a battering ram.
Weeks ago, the mere mention of love would have incited panic, would have choked the life out of him, caused him to retreat into his tomb and drag the stone lid over his sarcophagus. Yet now he wanted to bask in the warm feeling that filled his chest, let it embrace him, consume him — never let him go.
“You’re mistaken,” he said, doubt forcing him to hide behind a shield strong enough to ward off a Viking invasion. “We are good friends, colleagues. Rebecca displays a kindness and affection for everyone she meets.”
“Not everyone,” George countered. “She looked down her nose at all the gentlemen I introduced her to.” He leaned to his left, his cheek a mere inch from Sarah’s. “I have been trying to allude to the possibility for days though he refuses to accept it.”
Sarah gave an affectionate smile and whispered. “I would not normally break a confidence, not unless the situation warranted it, but Miss Linwood told me she was in love with him.”
He pretended he hadn’t heard them, his mind occupied with conjuring an image of Rebecca’s soft lips as they formed the words, of eyes filled with desire. The pleasant dream quickly disappearing as her face turned pale, her body crumpling to the floor devoid of life.
A coldness swept over him.
To lose Rebecca now would be the end of him.
Without Rebecca, he had nothing.
The carriage was still rolling when Gabriel opened the door and, amidst the gasps and cries, jumped to the pavement. There was no time to waste, he thought, surveying the only house on the corner of Chesterfield and Curzon Street and instinct told him it was Pennington’s.