Read Online A Curse of the Heart by Adele Clee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Adele Clee
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bodily harm. Once we find out who is responsible, I'm certain the person will hang.”
“It is not my fault,” Mr. Pearce cried jumping up from his chair. “You cannot blame a man for doing what he is told. It was his lordship. He made me do it. But I swear to you, I have not stolen anything.”
Gabriel could sense Miss Linwood’s body stiffen. It was always unpleasant to discover one’s trust had been misplaced. In his head, he imagined putting a comforting hand on her shoulder to ease the tension, which would probably have stopped her from jumping out of her chair, too.
“You mean to tell me it … it was George Wellford who asked you to break into my home in the dead of night and scare me out of my wits?” she said leaning over the desk, her face level with Mr. Pearce.
The curator could only stare at the floor.
“Of all the sneaky, underhanded … ugh … you may tell Lord Wellford to go to the devil,” she continued before swinging round to face Gabriel. “What did I tell you? He wants me out of here and will do whatever it takes to achieve his goal.”
Gabriel waved his hands up and down: a simple gesture to calm a volatile spirit. “Let us hear what Mr. Pearce has to say on the matter,” he said turning to face the gentleman. “What precisely did Lord Wellford ask you to do?”
Mr. Pearce held his hands in front of him and began fiddling with his fingers. “I was to frighten her a little. That is all. Lord Wellford wants Miss Linwood to understand that the museum is no place for an unmarried lady.”
“You see, he wants me out of London,” she said. “Trust me, he will have some gentleman with a purse full of coins ready and waiting to cart me off to the country.”
The image of Miss Linwood as the wife of a country squire did not sit well with Gabriel. He could not imagine her taking tea with the vicar or hosting a summer fete or being out in the garden pruning roses. The lady had a passionate spirit and a deep love of the ancient world. It would be like trying to contain a butterfly in a jar: eventually, her spirit would wither and fade. Her father would not have left her the house and all his treasures if he had not thought her capable. If she were to marry, then the gentleman would have to accept that the museum was her life, and he doubted there were many men willing to do so.
“You were never in any danger,” Mr. Pearce said, finding the courage to look up at the lady. “I acted out of concern, nothing more.”
“Concern!” she spat. “You do not need to concern yourself with me.”
“Did Lord Wellford pay you?” Gabriel interrupted.
Mr. Pearce nodded and scrunched up his face as though the words forming in his mouth were painful. “He … he gave me ten pounds.”
Miss Linwood threw her hands up in the air. “Ten pounds! Is that the price of a lady’s sanity?”
“I have a family. What was I supposed to do?”
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “You were supposed to act honourably out of respect for your patron. Am I to understand Wellford gave you the ancient scroll?”
Mr. Pearce nodded. “He said it was a copy of an old curse. He said Miss Linwood would be more inclined to believe it.”
“Right,” Miss Linwood said, banging her hands on the desk. “Mr. Pearce. You will go to the storeroom and clear up the mess. With your ten pounds, I suggest you pay for someone to come and fix the hole in my ceiling. That is if you wish to continue working here.”
Gabriel gaped in astonishment. “You’re not letting him stay?”
“I shall decide his fate when I have spoken to Lord Wellford. Now, be on your way, Mr. Pearce, before I change my mind.”
The man scurried from the room as though wolves were biting at his heels.
“Surely, you’re not going to let him stay,” Gabriel repeated, as he was struggling to believe how anyone could be so lenient. He had wanted to thrust his fist down the man’s throat in the hope of pulling out his missing lip.
“I do not mind
“It is not my fault,” Mr. Pearce cried jumping up from his chair. “You cannot blame a man for doing what he is told. It was his lordship. He made me do it. But I swear to you, I have not stolen anything.”
Gabriel could sense Miss Linwood’s body stiffen. It was always unpleasant to discover one’s trust had been misplaced. In his head, he imagined putting a comforting hand on her shoulder to ease the tension, which would probably have stopped her from jumping out of her chair, too.
“You mean to tell me it … it was George Wellford who asked you to break into my home in the dead of night and scare me out of my wits?” she said leaning over the desk, her face level with Mr. Pearce.
The curator could only stare at the floor.
“Of all the sneaky, underhanded … ugh … you may tell Lord Wellford to go to the devil,” she continued before swinging round to face Gabriel. “What did I tell you? He wants me out of here and will do whatever it takes to achieve his goal.”
Gabriel waved his hands up and down: a simple gesture to calm a volatile spirit. “Let us hear what Mr. Pearce has to say on the matter,” he said turning to face the gentleman. “What precisely did Lord Wellford ask you to do?”
Mr. Pearce held his hands in front of him and began fiddling with his fingers. “I was to frighten her a little. That is all. Lord Wellford wants Miss Linwood to understand that the museum is no place for an unmarried lady.”
“You see, he wants me out of London,” she said. “Trust me, he will have some gentleman with a purse full of coins ready and waiting to cart me off to the country.”
The image of Miss Linwood as the wife of a country squire did not sit well with Gabriel. He could not imagine her taking tea with the vicar or hosting a summer fete or being out in the garden pruning roses. The lady had a passionate spirit and a deep love of the ancient world. It would be like trying to contain a butterfly in a jar: eventually, her spirit would wither and fade. Her father would not have left her the house and all his treasures if he had not thought her capable. If she were to marry, then the gentleman would have to accept that the museum was her life, and he doubted there were many men willing to do so.
“You were never in any danger,” Mr. Pearce said, finding the courage to look up at the lady. “I acted out of concern, nothing more.”
“Concern!” she spat. “You do not need to concern yourself with me.”
“Did Lord Wellford pay you?” Gabriel interrupted.
Mr. Pearce nodded and scrunched up his face as though the words forming in his mouth were painful. “He … he gave me ten pounds.”
Miss Linwood threw her hands up in the air. “Ten pounds! Is that the price of a lady’s sanity?”
“I have a family. What was I supposed to do?”
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “You were supposed to act honourably out of respect for your patron. Am I to understand Wellford gave you the ancient scroll?”
Mr. Pearce nodded. “He said it was a copy of an old curse. He said Miss Linwood would be more inclined to believe it.”
“Right,” Miss Linwood said, banging her hands on the desk. “Mr. Pearce. You will go to the storeroom and clear up the mess. With your ten pounds, I suggest you pay for someone to come and fix the hole in my ceiling. That is if you wish to continue working here.”
Gabriel gaped in astonishment. “You’re not letting him stay?”
“I shall decide his fate when I have spoken to Lord Wellford. Now, be on your way, Mr. Pearce, before I change my mind.”
The man scurried from the room as though wolves were biting at his heels.
“Surely, you’re not going to let him stay,” Gabriel repeated, as he was struggling to believe how anyone could be so lenient. He had wanted to thrust his fist down the man’s throat in the hope of pulling out his missing lip.
“I do not mind
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