Free A Curse of the Heart by Adele Clee

saying this to you, Mr. Stone, but my head is in such a tizzy I am not sure what is going on.” She flopped back down in the chair and let out a deep sigh. “I thank you for all your help. You must think me rather foolish for believing in a curse.”
    “On the contrary,” he said. “When I first heard the noises, I was tempted to believe it myself. Had the scroll been written in another language, then I’m sure I would have been more inclined to agree with you.”
    It was not a lie. Well, perhaps it was a small exaggeration.
    “Talking of the scroll, I had best go and remove it from the crate. I intend to feed it to Lord Wellford for luncheon in the hope he chokes on it.” She smiled at him, and the world seemed suddenly brighter. “I’m sure you will be relieved to get back to your studies now the matter is resolved. I have wasted far too much of your time.”
    Gabriel waited to feel the burning in his chest, the craving that tugged at his stomach whenever he thought of his work. But for some reason, it did not come. Perhaps his mind was so preoccupied with this tempting beauty he had lost sight of what was important. The only way to correct that was to immerse himself in his books.
    Which was why he was somewhat shocked when he said, “I will come with you when you visit Lord Wellford. It would not hurt to let him believe we are partners. At least for the time being.”
    Her eyes widened. “I could not ask you to do that,” she said, although a look of relief flashed across her face.
    “But only if you think I may be of some use, Miss Linwood,” he added, in the hope of appeasing the independent side of her character. “I said I would help you until the matter is concluded and I am a man of my word.”
    “Well, at least if you’re there, then there is no chance of him locking me in his cellar while he hurries off to summon a suitor.”
    Gabriel glanced down at his dusty coat. “I will need to change out of these clothes and shall return with my carriage.”
    “You have a carriage?” she said with some surprise.
    “My father was the youngest son of a viscount. Consequently, I have money, but no title.”
    Miss Linwood looked up at him as though he had sprouted horns. “How wonderful. So, presumably, you have an uncle or a cousin who is a viscount.”
    “An uncle,” he nodded, but he recalled only seeing him once since his father’s death.
    “So when you say you are on your own, you mean you have no siblings,” she clarified.
    Gabriel swallowed to clear the lump from his throat.
    “Like you, I do have family to speak of,” he said, choosing not to answer her question directly, as he did not want to lie to her. “But I prefer to be alone.”

 
    Chapter 9
     
    “You’re certain Lord Wellford will see you?” Mr. Stone said as the carriage rumbled along Compton Street on its way to Bedford Square.
    Sitting in such close quarters, Rebecca struggled to breathe let alone rouse a coherent response.
    He sat opposite, his muscular thighs straining against pale buckskin breeches. Their knees were but an inch apart and despite all the bumps and rumbles, he managed to maintain the distance.
    It was odd how she craved his company.
    She should have told him she could deal with George on her own. But for some strange reason, the thought of being near him for a few more hours seemed far too tempting to resist. Even now, in the dark confines of his carriage, the air pulsed with some undefinable emotion: a feeling of need, of longing, of desperation. She could feel the energy sparking between them, heating her blood, and it took all her efforts to try to focus on the conversation.
    “If he refuses to see me, I shall sit outside his front door until he has no choice but to open it,” she said. Her gaze drifted over his broad shoulders encased in a dark blue coat, and she imagined bronzed skin stretched smoothly over each bulging contour. “I do not think he is as stubborn as you, Mr. Stone.”
    His eyes