Chapter 6
W illie stood in front of the electric fan in the library’s ground floor reading nook, her waistcoat open and neckerchief dangling from her fingers. She leaned in so close that I worried the loose strands of her hair might get caught in the spinning blades. “Anyone else feel like they have a furnace inside them?”
When the professor arrived carrying a jug of lemonade and glasses half-filled with ice, she pounced on him. She picked up one of the glasses before he’d had a chance to put down the tray and scooped out chunks of ice. She pressed them to the back of her neck with a contented sigh.
“I’ve missed this,” she said. “We haven’t had ice for days. Mrs. Ling didn’t order enough this week.”
“Ha!” Alex barked. “It would have been enough, but you used it all up within three days of delivery. Now everything in the icebox is going off.”
“She should know I need it and order more.”
“Didn’t you come from a hot climate in America?” Professor Nash asked. “Aren’t you used to it?”
“Years ago,” Alex said. “Many, many years ago. She’s more used to the English weather now.”
Willie made a face at him. “No, I ain’t! This place is still foreign to me.”
The professor pushed his glasses up his nose. “Haven’t you lived here longer than you’ve lived there?”
“That ain’t the point. America is in my blood.”
“But England is under your skin,” Alex added.
Willie scooped out more ice from the glass and threw it at him. He ducked and it clinked against the bookshelves. Fortunately, Willie wasn’t going to waste a single piece of ice and retrieved them all before they melted.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “I wish I could say this isn’t my circus, but I seem to have inherited it.”
I laughed. “Imagine how dull life would be if she’d returned to America with your parents.”
“You mean peaceful. And I imagine it every day.” To prove he was merely joking, he flashed me one of his charming smiles, the sort that melted my insides and heated my cheeks. “Come with me upstairs to?—”
A block of ice hit him on the side of the face. Willie didn’t even bother trying to pretend she hadn’t thrown it. “Now that I got your attention, tell us what you think about the investigation so far.”
“I think Thurlow is the man Daniel Barratt refers to in his message to Oscar,” Gabe said.
Alex disagreed. “There isn’t anything implicating Thurlow.”
“It implicates Hendry,” Willie said. “Or Hope. Or both.”
“It doesn’t implicate anyone yet,” Alex pointed out. “We don’t have the evidence and won’t until Huon finishes transcribing the ledgers.”
Willie narrowed her gaze at me. “It’ll be Hendry. I’ll bet everything I own on it.”
Alex picked up the melting block of ice from the floor and tossed it back at her. She tugged the front of her shirt away from her body and caught the ice in it. She looked pleased with herself.
“Speaking of betting,” Gabe said. “We should visit Thurlow at the races tomorrow.”
“Not until we have evidence,” Alex said. “You know we can’t confront him yet, Gabe.”
Gabe crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend.
“Alex is right,” I said. “We can’t confront Thurlow until we have something solid to pin on him.”
Gabe’s thumb started to tap on his bicep. I placed my hand over it to still it. His muscle twitched before relaxing. He lowered his arms, but caught my hand as he did so. He gave me a small, reassuring smile and a nod.
Willie scooped out more ice from her glass.
Gabe quickly released me. “Don’t throw that,” he growled at her.
She returned the ice to the glass and poured lemonade into it.
From the reading nook, we could hear the front door open and close but not see who entered. Professor Nash started in the direction of the foyer to greet the patron, only to stop as Lady Stanhope appeared. She paused at the entrance to the library proper. I suspected she was pausing for dramatic effect, not to gauge our mood before entering. The columns flanking the entrance framed her like a piece of art. She was more of a gothic statue than a classic one in her black dress made from stiff satin that clung to her luscious curves. She must be hot, but she showed no sign of it as she swanned towards us, a smile on her lips.
The smile was unnaturally stiff, but that was quite normal for Lady Stanhope. I doubted smiles came easily to her. I’d only ever seen her bestow them on Gabe, and this time was no exception.
She held out her hands to him. “My dear boy.”
Obliged to take them, he leaned down for her to kiss his cheek. “Lady Stanhope. What a pleasure to see you.”
Willie made a scoffing sound.
The professor greeted her ladyship, and she gave a nod in return, which she then bestowed on me and finally on Alex and Willie. It was one of the few times she’d acknowledged them.
“To what do we owe this surprise?” Gabe asked, releasing himself from her grip.
She sat on the sofa and plucked off her lace gloves by the fingertips. “Is that lemonade and ice?”
Professor Nash hurriedly poured her a glass then gave his excuses and left.
Lady Stanhope sipped then lowered the glass to her lap. “I’ve heard rumors about you, Gabriel.”
“And you want to know if they’re true?” he suggested.
“I know they’re true. I’ve come to warn you. Mrs. Hobson is calling on various members of society, asking questions about you.”
Her attempt at drama fell flat. Nobody showed surprise. We were already aware of Ivy’s mother’s visit to Hope, Lady Coyle.
“She has been asking questions about your relationship with Sylvia Ashe.” Lady Stanhope didn’t look at me when she said it. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she’d forgotten I was the Sylvia Ashe in question.
A light blush touched Gabe’s cheeks. “I, uh…”
“There is nothing between Gabe and me,” I told her. “We’re friends.”
The last thing I wanted was for her, and others, to think that Gabe ended his relationship with Ivy because of me. He’d told me he’d ended it because they weren’t right for each other, that he should never have rushed into it in the first place. I believed him. It would be a gross injustice to label him a philanderer.
Willie sat forward, intent. “Are folk saying they’re more than friends?”
“Nobody knew the reason Gabriel and Ivy’s relationship ended, and since Sylvia was unknown in society, her name wasn’t bandied about as the cause.”
I never thought I’d feel relieved to be of no consequence.
“Until now, that is. Before Mrs. Hobson’s visits, Sylvia was nobody. Now, everyone is talking about her, linking her name to yours, Gabriel.”
“So?” Gabe prompted.
She looked at him as though he were mad. “You need to stop it, of course.”
“Let them think what they want. I don’t care. You shouldn’t either.”
“My dear boy, consider what it means. Because of Mrs. Hobson’s meddling, everyone now thinks you ended your relationship with Ivy, not the other way around, and for another woman, too. It puts you in a bad light.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should. Nobody likes a gentleman who ends a relationship with a perfectly acceptable heiress to take up with…another girl.” Still Lady Stanhope didn’t look at me. “Particularly a girl whose origins are…unclear.”
Gabe shot to his feet. “You should leave.”
“I’m simply stating a fact and facts aren’t insults.” She swept her hand across her lap as if to flick dust off her skirt. “From what my friends have told me, Mrs. Hobson is telling everyone that Sylvia is not from anywhere in particular and the identities of her parents are shrouded in mystery.”
“My mother was Alice Ashe,” I said stiffly.
“There is no record of her birth, and your father could have been the local butcher for all anyone knows.”
“That’s enough,” Gabe growled. “This is no one’s business but Sylvia’s.”
Lady Stanhope stood. “Don’t get upset with me . I’m simply the messenger. I’ll do what I can to quell the rumors, of course, but you must be sure not to fan them either.”
“Meaning?” Gabe bit off.
“You ought to stay away from the library.”
Willie’s grunt was one of agreement this time.
Lady Stanhope grasped Gabe’s forearm. “You upset Mrs. Hobson when you broke off your engagement to Ivy, and you angered her when you wouldn’t defend the family against the allegations of magical negligence made in the newspapers.” Her thumb caressed his sleeve. “I’m concerned for you, dear boy.”
Gabe didn’t extricate himself from her grip, but instead clamped his hand over hers, trapping it. He then steered her towards the exit. “Don’t worry about me. Apparently, I’m invincible.”
“Don’t be flippant. This is serious. Mrs. Hobson isn’t someone you want to continue to anger.”
“What could she possibly do to harm me? She has no power over me.”
They disappeared from view as Gabe saw her to the front door. I sat down on the sofa and tried not to let her visit upset me. But it had. Gabe’s reputation was being sullied because of me. He might not care what others thought of him, but some people did.
One who cared most sat beside me. Willie studied her fingernails. “Is that Daisy’s voice I hear?”
Falling for her diversionary tactic, Alex strode towards the foyer.
Willie leaned back into the corner of the sofa and rested her elbows on the sofa arm behind her. Her gaze settled on me. “You heard what she said, Sylvia.”
“I did. And I know what you’re going to say.”
“Is that so?”
“You’re going to tell me to stay away from him. That if I cared for him, I’d put some distance between us.”
“So, will you?”
“Gabe says he doesn’t care about his reputation.”
“He doesn’t. Nor do his parents. But Matt and India don’t yet know that you could be the daughter of Melville Hendry, a man who tried to kill her. Matt’s protective of his wife. He doesn’t want that man anywhere near her again. But if Hendry’s still alive, and he finds out his daughter is in London, he might come looking for you. And if he sees you with Gabe…”
“He may not be my father.”
My weak response fell on deaf ears. “Hasn’t Gabe got enough on his plate with the stabbing and the kidnappings? Do you really want to add more danger to his life? Ain’t he been through enough these past years?”
Despite the heat, I suddenly felt very cold.
“You can step away from Gabe now before either of you develops deep feelings. Do it before it gets too hard, and no one will be hurt.” She glanced at the entry to the foyer where Gabe and Alex could be heard having a discussion. She leaned towards me and lowered her voice. “It’s for the best, Sylvia. I can see in your eyes that you know it.”
The men reemerged from the foyer. “There’s nothing between Gabe and me,” I whispered.
“Keep it that way.”
If only it were as easy as she made it sound.
Daisy convinced me that dancing at the Buttonhole club would take my mind off the events of the past few days. It did not. Gabe was there with Alex and Willie. Either Daisy had assumed Alex would be there or Alex had told her. Either way, she didn’t look surprised to see them. Gabe was surprised to see us, however. He looked pleased. Willie just looked cross.
For much of the evening, she stuck to Gabe’s side. When we danced to the ragtime band’s music, she joined us, even though she loathed dancing. When he ordered drinks, she insisted he buy her one, too. While his back was turned, she pulled me aside.
“You promised you and he weren’t…” She made a rude hand gesture that left nothing to the imagination.
“We aren’t,” I hissed. “And I made no such promise. As I recall, you insisted.”
“I don’t like doing this, but it’s necessary. You know it, Sylvia. We both want him to be safe, so you have to stay away to keep Hendry away.”
Gabe returned with a drink in each hand. He peered over our heads, frowning. “Willie, did you know Nurse Tilda is here?”
Willie whipped around, searching the sea of faces. “Where? I can’t see her.”
“That’s because you’re too short. She’s near the door. She must be looking for you.”
“She told me she doesn’t like dance clubs. Too noisy.”
“Then she must really want to see you tonight.”
Willie took her drink then forged a path through the crowd towards the door.
Gabe grabbed my hand and led me in the opposite direction to the back of the club. We took the place of a couple who vacated a booth to dance, both of us occupying the same bench seat. We sat close, mere inches separating us.
“Is Nurse Tilda even here?” I asked.
He flashed a grin. “It was the only thing guaranteed to draw Willie away.”
“She must like Tilda very much.”
“She does.” His smile faded. “I know she’s worried about your possible connection to Hendry, but the point is moot. He has probably fled the country or passed away. If he is alive, then he can’t know about you yet.”
The key word in that sentence was ‘yet’, but I nodded. He was right. Whether or not Hendry was my father, it was most likely he’d died or moved away, considering no one in Gabe’s circle had heard of him for a long time.
And yet… Willie was right, too. If Hendry was alive and if he found me, what would he do? If there was a slim chance that he would cause Gabe trouble, I didn’t want to be the catalyst. I would never forgive myself.
And yet…staying away from Gabe would be one of the most difficult things I’d ever had to do. Especially when he looked at me as he did now, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. The frenzied music and throbbing crowd on the dance floor may as well have not been there. It was just us. Just those sea-green eyes of his, the soft lips that invited me to kiss them, and my erratically pounding heart.
In the end, I didn’t have to make a decision. He kissed me .
I kissed him back. I couldn’t help it. All of my doubts were drowned out by the beat in my head, drumming out the same message, over and over: This man, this man, this man.
There was nothing tentative in our kiss, no hesitation, no testing of feelings. It was full of absolute certainty, from both of us.
Until Gabe tore himself away.
It took me a moment of wading through the fog of my desire to realize he hadn’t ended the kiss. Willie had grabbed the back of his jacket and forced us apart.
He shot to his feet, towering over her, his fists clenched at his sides, and for one dreadful moment I wasn’t sure what he’d do. Then he shook his head at her. He said something I couldn’t hear over the music.
She swallowed heavily but did not back down. She crossed her arms and turned her glare onto me.
Alex appeared behind her. He spoke and Willie answered. His gaze shifted from Gabe to me. I saw the same worry in it that I’d seen in Willie’s, although his wasn’t accompanied by anger. He shrugged, part apology, part appeal to me to do what Gabe wouldn’t.
Finally, my own thoughts broke through the clearing fog. I slid across the seat and stood. As I passed Gabe, he caught my hand. I shook my head at him. I couldn’t trust my voice to speak.
I almost changed my mind when his face fell. But I summoned as much courage as I could and slipped my hand free. The confusion in his gaze turned to vulnerability.
“No,” he said, in a throaty voice unlike his own. “Don’t, Sylvia.”
Despite the bone-deep ache in my chest, I walked away.