Chapter 28
A NEW ENERGY radiated through Gabriel as he woke up on his third morning at Keatley Hall.
He swung his legs over the side of the high bed to stand, stretched his arms over the top of his head to shake off the effects of sleep, and moved to the window.
After pulling back the curtain, he determined the hour was much earlier than he’d thought.
Gray light backlit the low-hanging clouds and cast the faintest bit of morning light on the north garden, where he and Ella had walked the previous afternoon.
A neutral gray covered all, giving the trees and ground a sense of darkness and foreshadowing the impending autumn.
His sights fell on the oak tree that he and Ella had visited the previous day, and his thoughts turned to her.
Beautiful Ella.
Getting to know her was opening his eyes to what might be possible for his future.
How in such a short time had she captured his every thought?
Gabriel’s logical side wanted to fight the idea that two souls could be predestined to find each other.
Poets wrote of it, but it had always been an abstract idea to him.
It certainly was not practical. Whatever this feeling was—this sensation that his life would never be complete unless she was in it—was new, exciting, and intoxicating.
Could he, with all his faults, be fortunate enough to earn her favor? Maybe even her love?
For years now, bringing criminals to justice had been his singular goal, as if by doing so he could undo the wrongs done by others—as if he could atone for their own father’s cruelty toward his sister.
It was gratifying work, but now it seemed Ella was exposing another purpose for him—a part that he had kept guarded away.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable with lingering on his emotions for too long, he refocused on the task at hand: Thomas Bauer. Ella had been softening toward Gabriel, but when the full scope of what needed to be done came to light, would she still feel the same way?
He retrieved the satchel where he’d been storing his evidence.
He reread the slips of paper he’d found in Gutt’s chamber, and he browsed the notes he’d written about Bauer’s activities in London.
The more he observed Bauer, the more he was confident the man was not as he seemed. What was he missing?
Determined to get on with the day, Gabriel pulled on his trousers, tucked in his linen shirt, tied his cravat, and donned his maroon silk waistcoat and then his cobalt wool coat.
He brushed his fingers through his hair and smoothed it across his forehead, and once he was completely dressed, he quit his room and made his way to the breakfast chamber.
He always strove to be the first person present, hoping for a moment to investigate, and today he planned to speak with Gutt. The man knew details, Gabriel was sure of it—and today he would find out what they were.
A few of the older men had already gathered in the east-facing breakfast room, and two footmen stood on either side of a long table laden with meats, cheeses, and breads. He set his eye on the coffee at the end of the table, but Mrs. Chatterly entered behind him and motioned to him.
A bit surprised, Gabriel turned toward her and bowed. He’d always liked Mrs. Chatterly, but she’d not been overly friendly with him since his arrival.
She cast a glance toward the other men present before refocusing her dark eyes on him and extending a note. “I’ve a message for you.”
He thanked her, and after she exited, he flipped open the note.
Please meet me in the conservatory.—E
The notion of breakfast completely abandoned, Gabriel grabbed a roll, popped it in his mouth, and made his way back toward the staircase. He followed the mazelike path toward the ground-floor drawing room, and when he turned from the drawing room into the conservatory, the sight of her struck him.
She was beautiful.
Ella was clipping blooms from a large plant. The early morning light emphasized her willowy form’s femininity. The hue of her pale peach gown accentuated her skin’s alluring softness, and her brows, slightly darker than her hair, framed her face so elegantly.
His footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and she turned from the plant she was trimming. Her blue eyes brightened, and she lowered the scissors in her hand. “You got my note.”
“I did.” He lifted it between his fingers and, knowing it could be incriminating and make someone question her character if it was ever discovered, extended it to her.
She accepted it, tucked it in the pocket of the apron that was protecting her gown, and retrieved a journal sitting next to the potted plant. “I need to show you something.”
“Is that one of the journals?”
“It is. It was written nearly two full years before my mother died. And look what I found in it.” She flipped through the pages and then stopped. With a slender, elegant finger she pointed out the text. “Read here.”
He learned closer, squinted to make out the tiny, sharply angled handwriting, and read silently.
Mr. Bauer is the most unusual man, with a strange propensity to smack his lips when he is anxious or drum his fingers on the table. But it is his eyes that make him seem the most intense—they are the most unique shade of blue.
Surprised, he read it again.
“Blue,” he mused aloud.
She shifted with her eyes pinned on him, as if watching for his reaction. “I know. Blue. What do you think?”
“Did you read the rest of it? Is there anything else like that in here?”
“No. I’ve read the entire thing and the journal she wrote immediately after this one. I don’t believe my mother would err on something so obvious. She was far too particular.”
Ella was right. Anyone who knew Leonora Wilde knew she saw everything. Noticed everything.
“Well?” she prompted eagerly, beaming with pride. “What do you make of it?”
It was definitely a promising development, but he knew better than to get ahead of himself. “Is there anyone else here who would have met Bauer before?”
“No. Not that I’m aware of. My father never traveled to Austria with my mother. Mrs. Chatterly did, but she doesn’t recall him. The only other person who would have encountered him was my grandfather, and he did not keep journals.”
Gabriel paced slowly as he contemplated what he knew.
A piece of information like this should infuse him with motivation and breathe fresh life into the search.
Such a discovery would bring him one step closer to the truth, but how could he be happy when exposing the man as an impostor would bring the reputation of everyone associated with Keatley Hall into question?
Based on her enthusiasm, he doubted she’d considered the situation from that angle . . . yet. “Does anyone else know of this?” he asked.
“No.”
“What about Miss Hawthorne?”
“Definitely not,” Ella huffed. “She’d be crushed at the very thought. Everything in me wants to confront him and demand an explanation for every inconsistency.”
He chuckled at her impatience. How he could relate. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”
“Then I really would look insane, wouldn’t I?”
Her words stopped him. This was not the first time she’d made such a comment.
Surely she did not believe any of those rumors.
Did she? It pained him that she’d been so affected by the opinions of others.
He could never change what had happened to her or what was said about her, but he could expose the truth.
He handed the journal back to her. “I knew from the moment we talked in that assembly room that you were exceedingly clever, but this level of insight will put me out of business.”
She blushed under his praise and accepted the tome. “I’ve told you, I’ll not rest until my mother’s reputation has been vindicated.”
“Don’t worry. We’re getting close.”
The sounds of morning were awakening around them. Voices wafted from the corridors, and a groundsman passed the conservatory window. Their time alone was coming to an end.
Reluctantly, he bid her farewell, and as he made his way back to the breakfast room, a bittersweet battle was brewing within him.
He reminded himself that his sole purpose for attending this symposium was to recover the money for his client.
It was a straightforward responsibility.
But he had broken his one cardinal rule—he had gotten personally involved in the investigation.
What was more, he was emotionally involved.
He was not sure of the best way to navigate this unusual situation, but he did know one thing for certain: It was far too late to turn back now.
Now that he was armed with the information he’d received from Ella, any doubt that Gabriel had about Mr. Bauer’s fraudulent intentions was eradicated.
Regardless of his obligation to his client, Gabriel was now honor bound to formally inform Mr. Hawthorne of his investigation.
He did not need to share all the details, just his suspicions, for if something were to happen and the entire Society were to be the victim of Bauer’s deception, Gabriel wanted to ensure that he had given those in charge ample warning.
He’d never spoken to Mr. Hawthorne prior to his symposium arrival, but he’d certainly heard about him. As the leader of the Natural Philosophers Society of London, he was a powerful and influential man.
Gabriel would have to tread lightly. Hawthorne’s reputation for anger was well known. If he was going to point out a flaw in the man whom Hawthorne had handpicked as a symposium speaker, then he needed to be prepared for retaliation.
Gabriel spied Hawthorne immediately once he returned to the breakfast room. After the man broke away from his conversation, Gabriel seized his chance. He approached Hawthorne and intercepted him near the guest hall entrance. “Hawthorne. A moment, please.”
“Ah, Rowe. Have you enjoyed your return to Keatley Hall?”
“Very much. It hasn’t changed much over the years, has it?”
Hawthorne made a great display of looking around the chamber. “No, I suppose not. These grand old country houses are like that, though. Frozen in time, eh? And now that you have returned, what do you think of the symposium?”
“Actually, the symposium is what I want to talk with you about. More specifically, Mr. Bauer.”
“Ah, I see.” Hawthorne lifted his chin, almost as if amused, and looked down his bulbous nose toward Gabriel. “My daughter told me that you do not appreciate Mr. Bauer.”
“This has nothing to do with appreciation, sir,” he countered matter-of-factly. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here if not to learn?”
Gabriel ignored Hawthorne’s conspicuous condescension. “Mr. Bauer is not what he seems to be.”
Mr. Hawthorne threw his head back in laughter and clapped a hand patronizingly on his shoulder. “Ah yes. She also told me you are a thieftaker, correct? So if you are looking for an opportunity to—”
“Mr. Bauer owes my client a great deal of money,” Gabriel interrupted more intently, refusing to allow Hawthorne’s conceited air of superiority to affect him. “He informed them that he will pay his debt after this symposium.”
A brief shadow of confusion flitted over Hawthorne’s expression, and Gabriel commenced to share pieces of what he knew about Bauer’s actions. With each additional bit of information, Hawthorne’s expression of disgust intensified.
“Additionally, I’ve received verified reports that Bauer and his associate are buying personal information so they can make accurate assessments. If this news were to be made public or if Bauer takes advantage of the guests here at the symposium, you could have a significant problem on your hands.”
Hawthorne’s glare narrowed. “Where are you getting this so-called information?”
Gabriel widened his stance. “I’m sharing this with you out of an abundance of caution. I hope my concern never comes to fruition. I urge you to remain vigilant.”
“Very well, Mr. Rowe. You’ve warned me, and if you’ve nothing else to say, then I’ll be on my way. I will leave you with a warning of my own: If you spread your assumptions about our honored guest to the others without any real proof, I will ruin you.”