Chapter 24
The fire had died out long ago, but Gabe was still too warm. The dim brightness of pre-dawn began to seep between the curtains, lending a low light to the dark room. He lay flat on his back on the floor before the cold hearth, his heart ever pounding and his stomach twisting painfully.
Mary is a virgin!A sullied virgin, but avirginfor God’s sake! How was it even possible? Every night she had a different “assignment” from whom she gleaned information. How else could she get such secrets from men if not from allowing them liberties? Had he gotten it all wrong?
None of it made sense. Both Boxton and Reddington had extoled her virtues and astoundingtalents. How could she have performed such acts and still retained her maidenhead? But he had undoubtedly felt her maidenhead last night.
He rubbed his hands agitatedly over his face. He had not slept a wink but for thinking of her. She was so bloody alluring, so damned seductive… How could a man resist such charms? Evidently many had. Lord knew he had gotten farther than any man before him, for Gabe knew that without astounding force of will, no other man would have been able to stop where he had. As it was, Gabe’d had to handle his own needs at the chamberpot, for he would never have been able to round the screen and see Mary laying in the bed they had both so recently occupied and not return to finish where he had left off.
Instead, he had satisfied his own needs—albeit not asshecould have satisfied him—set his pillow on the rug, and settled himself down for several hours of discomfort. Listening to Mary try not to cry had not helped. Guilt rode him heavily, weighing on his chest with each sigh and sniffle. She had always been such a brave gel. What had happened? Had he hurt her so badly, then?
Mary had given herself freely to him…but why?Damn. He was not a cur. He did not despoil innocents—or as innocent as Mary could be, given her experience with men. But whatwasthat experience?
Discovering her maidenhead had terrified him. Damn him if he knew why, but it did. His reaction did not make sense. Her virginity did not make sense.
The entire thing was a muddle of confusion and self-derision and he hadn’t the faintest idea where to place his thoughts.
Only one thing was certain. He was on assignment. He should never have trifled with Mary during their mission, and now more than ever he needed to focus on his task, get this assignment completed, and return to London to report back to Hydra.
He needed to get out of this room, to do something other than torture himself with the mental image of Mary’s glorious nude body.
An idea struck him, and he felt a moment of swift relief. He would find Stevens and exchange information.
He rose from his position on the floor and returned the pillow to the bed. Keeping his gaze averted from Mary, Gabe went about his ablutions and dressing. He placed the forged documents that Mary had completed into his breast pocket and hid two of her hairpins in his cravat.
Without a glance in Mary’s direction, Gabe strode from the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
* * *
Mary flinched as the sun suddenly shone brightly across her face.
“I’m ever so sorry, Miss White,” Eleanor said, turning toward Mary from the window. “I called your name, I did, but mayhap you didn’t hear me.” She gazed worriedly at Mary. “Would you like me to bring you some tea?”
Mary shook her aching head as she tugged the coverlet up to her chin. “Please do not trouble yourself, Eleanor. What time is it?”
“Half of nine, Miss.”
Mary groaned. She had slept far past the time that she should have arisen, but she had only fallen asleep at five of the clock and… Oh, pooh. She was miserable and had absolutely no desire to face the day.
Her eyes were dry and scratchy, as though someone had lifted her eyelids and deposited sand beneath. She touched the tips of her fingers to her swollen eyelids and groaned, despising the usual result of her dissolving into a fit of tears.
There had only been two previous occasions in which she had spent the entirety of the night weeping. The first had been when Gabriel had abandoned their friendship and moved to Scotland. The second was when Mama had so tragically passed away.
This was now the third. Evidently, she had not learned her lesson with Gabriel the first time he had broken her heart, for as she had only realized last night, she had willingly—and most foolishly—allowed him access to her heart once more. How could she have done such a reckless, imprudent thing? Curst hopeful heart.
She dearly wished her Mama and Papa were here to comfort her. Her mama would say, “Any man that turns his back on a pretty flower like you, isn’t worth his salt,” just as she had after Gabe had left. Her papa would give her a kiss on the forehead and allow her to cry upon his shoulder for as long as she desired.
Her lip quivered, and the heated warmth of tears threatened behind her eyes, and she pulled the coverlet over her head. “Wake me in six hours,” she mumbled.
“Oh no you don’t, miss.” The small maid grabbed at the coverlet and pulled it from atop her. “Pardon me for intrudin’, but I know that expression. Don’t you go lettin’ a man ruin your pretty face with all that cryin’.”
To Mary’s mortification, she could feel her bottom lip begin to stick out. Oh heavens, she was pouting like a petulant child!
“You’re a grown and experienced woman, if you don’t mind me sayin’,” Eleanor continued. “Whatever Mr. Spencer did most likely makes ‘im a cad and not worth your carryin’ on so.”
Mary nodded her throbbing head and slowly rose to a seated position. “You’re right, Eleanor. Of course, you’re right.”
The young maid smiled and Mary was struck by just how handsome the girl was. Her green eyes stood out in her soft, round face. Mary wondered what Eleanor’s auburn hair would look like without her frilly mobcap covering it.
