us.”
When they entered her room, he walked over to her bed. “I will need you to help me pull it away from the wall.”
His words and movements were structured and methodical, and she did not think to question his motive. Together, they gripped the bottom of the bed and pulled it back a few inches.
“That should be sufficient,” he said, moving her side table for a more optimum view. “It is as I suspected. The rope’s attached to the legs of your bed.”
He straightened and strode over to the window, scanning the square panes until he found what he was looking for. “And a pane of glass has been removed from the corner of this window.”
She moved towards him, her breathing shallow as she stared up at rows upon rows of tiny squares, aware of a the light breeze drifting through.
“Who would do such a thing?”
“If the intention is to cause harm, then the intruder has had every opportunity to succeed in his task. This is different. Someone is trying to frighten you, so you must try to think of a reason why anyone would wish to cause you distress.”
Rebecca hung her head. Her chest felt hollow, as though beneath her ribcage there was nothing but an empty cavern. Mr. Stone took hold of her chin and lifted her head up until her eyes met his.
“I promise you, I will find out who is doing this and put an end to it,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, before straightening.
In that moment, the small gesture, the kiss that spoke of comfort and compassion was worth more to her than any jewel or ancient relic.
It meant more to her than he would ever know.
Chapter 8
Seeing the coarse rope attached to the bed, seeing the look of horror on Miss Linwood’s face caused something to snap inside Gabriel’s chest.
He would find out who was responsible and then there would be hell to pay.
Even as they made their way down to her office, he could still see the look of fear in her eyes. As much as she tried to make others believe she was strong and resilient, there was a certain vulnerability about her that called out to him.
Indeed, the different aspects of her character were like the facets of a gem: each unique angle contributing to its dazzling beauty. As the owner of the museum, she was forthright, haughty and knowledgeable, and he enjoyed their discussions about the ancient world.
Then, there was another side. A fragility that roused a medieval sense of chivalry, something he had forgotten he possessed. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of all was the fiery passion simmering beneath the surface. He had only managed to glimpse it, only managed to take a sip of sweet nectar from a cup he imagined was as deep as the ocean.
“Are you well, Mr. Stone?”
Her voice penetrated his thoughts and he realised they were standing in the middle of the gallery. “Yes, Miss Linwood. Forgive me. I was just thinking about the intruder.”
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Well, perhaps we can cross Mr. Pearce off the list. Look, he has decided to make an appearance this morning.”
Miss Linwood’s naivety touched him.
He followed her gaze to one of the display cabinets, to the painfully thin gentleman whose bony fingers were busy scanning the pages of a ledger. It was obvious the man wasn’t reading as his eyes moved up and down the page at too rapid a rate.
“I need you to trust me, Miss Linwood,” Gabriel said, placing her hand in the crook of his arm and forcing her to follow his direction. “I need you to agree with everything I say, without question or reservation. Regardless of how strange it sounds.”
He gave her no chance to protest as he stepped in front of the curator. “Mr. Pearce. Good morning.”
The man looked up, his left eye twitching. Gabriel doubted he suffered from an uncontrollable muscle spasm. The curator inclined his head to Miss Linwood and with a stutter said, “G-good morning.”
“I am Mr. Stone, Miss Linwood’s new partner in the museum.”
The
When they entered her room, he walked over to her bed. “I will need you to help me pull it away from the wall.”
His words and movements were structured and methodical, and she did not think to question his motive. Together, they gripped the bottom of the bed and pulled it back a few inches.
“That should be sufficient,” he said, moving her side table for a more optimum view. “It is as I suspected. The rope’s attached to the legs of your bed.”
He straightened and strode over to the window, scanning the square panes until he found what he was looking for. “And a pane of glass has been removed from the corner of this window.”
She moved towards him, her breathing shallow as she stared up at rows upon rows of tiny squares, aware of a the light breeze drifting through.
“Who would do such a thing?”
“If the intention is to cause harm, then the intruder has had every opportunity to succeed in his task. This is different. Someone is trying to frighten you, so you must try to think of a reason why anyone would wish to cause you distress.”
Rebecca hung her head. Her chest felt hollow, as though beneath her ribcage there was nothing but an empty cavern. Mr. Stone took hold of her chin and lifted her head up until her eyes met his.
“I promise you, I will find out who is doing this and put an end to it,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, before straightening.
In that moment, the small gesture, the kiss that spoke of comfort and compassion was worth more to her than any jewel or ancient relic.
It meant more to her than he would ever know.
Chapter 8
Seeing the coarse rope attached to the bed, seeing the look of horror on Miss Linwood’s face caused something to snap inside Gabriel’s chest.
He would find out who was responsible and then there would be hell to pay.
Even as they made their way down to her office, he could still see the look of fear in her eyes. As much as she tried to make others believe she was strong and resilient, there was a certain vulnerability about her that called out to him.
Indeed, the different aspects of her character were like the facets of a gem: each unique angle contributing to its dazzling beauty. As the owner of the museum, she was forthright, haughty and knowledgeable, and he enjoyed their discussions about the ancient world.
Then, there was another side. A fragility that roused a medieval sense of chivalry, something he had forgotten he possessed. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of all was the fiery passion simmering beneath the surface. He had only managed to glimpse it, only managed to take a sip of sweet nectar from a cup he imagined was as deep as the ocean.
“Are you well, Mr. Stone?”
Her voice penetrated his thoughts and he realised they were standing in the middle of the gallery. “Yes, Miss Linwood. Forgive me. I was just thinking about the intruder.”
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Well, perhaps we can cross Mr. Pearce off the list. Look, he has decided to make an appearance this morning.”
Miss Linwood’s naivety touched him.
He followed her gaze to one of the display cabinets, to the painfully thin gentleman whose bony fingers were busy scanning the pages of a ledger. It was obvious the man wasn’t reading as his eyes moved up and down the page at too rapid a rate.
“I need you to trust me, Miss Linwood,” Gabriel said, placing her hand in the crook of his arm and forcing her to follow his direction. “I need you to agree with everything I say, without question or reservation. Regardless of how strange it sounds.”
He gave her no chance to protest as he stepped in front of the curator. “Mr. Pearce. Good morning.”
The man looked up, his left eye twitching. Gabriel doubted he suffered from an uncontrollable muscle spasm. The curator inclined his head to Miss Linwood and with a stutter said, “G-good morning.”
“I am Mr. Stone, Miss Linwood’s new partner in the museum.”
The
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