“It is as I mentioned last night. I hear noises coming from the storeroom —”
“You live here?” he said with some surprise.
Rebecca nodded. “Yes. My rooms are on the third floor.”
“I see. Forgive me. Please continue.”
When she smiled at him, he sucked in a breath. “It is the same every night,” she explained. “I hear whispers, scratching and moaning and then the bed shakes.”
He looked at her a little dubiously. “And this all began when you read from the scroll?”
She nodded.
“This is high
ly inappropriate, I know, but if I may be so bold as to ask, are you alone when you experience the bed shaking?”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Of course I am alone! What are you suggesting? That I am plagued by a phantom lover?”
Mr. Stone coughed into his fist, and she could not decide if he had something stuck in his throat of if he was laughing. “Please disregard the question. And I am correct in saying that every night you experience the same thing,” he reaffirmed. When she nodded again, he asked, “Do you think I would be able to hear these strange noises?”
“Oh, yes. I am certain you would. If you were to hear them, too, then I would know I am not losing my mind. If you are free, you may call this evening and then you will be sure to hear them. My housekeeper leaves at nine, and I am on my own all night until eight.”
Rebecca noticed him swallow deeply. Now she thought of it, she did sound more than a little desperate.
“When you say you are on your own, I assume you have a maid. Has she heard a similar thing, too?”
“No, Mr. Stone. When I say I am on my own, I mean I am alone.”
He muttered a curse and looked at everything in the room except her, and then he scratched his head and sighed. “Very well, I shall come this evening. The sooner the matter is finished with, the better. Well, what I mean is, only then will you be able to sleep again at night.”
“Wonderful. Mrs. James leaves through the front door. As I said, she is always the last to leave and has never stayed past nine thirty. I trust by your response there is no one to object to you spending the evening here?”
He stood abruptly, as though the question caused him discomfort. “I live alone, Miss Linwood, and I work alone. So no, there is no one to offer any objection.” He gave her a respectful bow. “Until tonight.”
“Until tonight,” she repeated, feeling a flutter in her stomach at the prospect of having company this evening.
He walked to the door but then turned back to face her. “If you could provide a list of all those who work here, at what times they have access and anything else you might think pertinent.”
Rebecca had no idea why he was interested in that information but thought it best to say nothing. “I shall provide you with everything you need.”
He managed a smile. “And I trust there is no one to object to my presence here this evening.”
She looked up at his handsome face, into eyes that made her forget to breathe. “Like you, there is no one to object. Like you, I am alone.”
Chapter 5
Gabriel was not the sort of gentleman to hover on a street corner at night, or hide behind a bush spying on the home of an unmarried lady. That sort of licentious conduct was reserved for bucks and rakes, not respectable scholars of the ancient world. Yet here he was dressed in black, waiting to partake in a late night rendezvous.
But this was not a rendezvous, he reminded himself.
This was penance, to atone for the disgraceful way he’d behaved.
Lord Wellford had been a man of patience, a man sympathetic to the needs of his students; he bought Gabriel books, paid for dinner, listened to his theories on the mummification process. And now he would repay the kindness of his mentor by coming to the aid of his daughter.
Thirty minutes had passed since the housekeeper let herself out through the front door, waddling off down the street with her wicker basket swinging on her arm. Gabriel had decided to hang back in the shadows, to wait and ensure no one else entered the house without Miss Linwood’s knowledge. To wait until he could enter the building unnoticed.
He still found the thought of her living alone rather unsettling. Why employ a housekeeper who leaves at nine? Why not hire a maid or paid companion? Once he’d dealt with the curse, which probably amounted to nothing more than an infestation of rats, he would convince Miss Linwood of the need to be chaperoned at night.