Page 6 of The Lovers
Gavin stepped from behind the carriage, his hat in his hands as he peered at Elise through the gloom. He looked tired and anxious, his eyes searching Elise’s face for clues as she rushed toward him. Elise walked into Gavin’s arms and rested her head on his chest. She’d never taken such liberties before, but this might be the last time they saw each other, so she threw caution to the wind. Whatever happened, she was glad he’d come. Not seeing him before the wedding or saying goodbye would have made things even more difficult to bear.
“Elise,” Gavin murmured as he pushed back the hood of her cloak and stroked her hair. “Oh, Elise.”
Elise opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing that came out was a choked sob. She hadn’t meant to cry, but suddenly her predicament seemed unbearable. All her hopes and dreams were being torn apart, replaced by a black void in whichher future now lived. She’d tried picturing her life with Lord Asher but drew a blank every time. She knew nothing about the man, his life, or even his house. She could picture his face, but nothing more.
“Gavin, I’m so sorry,” she finally choked out. “I wasn’t given a choice. TheCeleste…”
“I know,” he replied gently as he continued to hold her close. “Come inside the carriage. I want to talk to you.”
Gavin reluctantly let her go, then opened the door of the carriage and handed her inside. The interior felt like a tomb, but it did offer them more privacy should anyone decide to come in. Once Elise’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she felt cocooned within the vehicle, momentarily safe from the world outside. If only they could stay in the carriage forever, hidden from her father and future husband, who would claim her for his own in less than two weeks.
Gavin set aside his hat and turned to Elise, his eyes intent on her face. “Elise, I hold your father in very high esteem and would never dream of going against his wishes, but this is our once chance to thwart your marriage to Lord Asher.”
“Gavin,” Elise interjected, but he shook his head, wary of the interruption.
“Elise, come away with me. We can leave London tomorrow, or even today. I have enough put by to sustain us for several months until I find employment. We can go anywhere, even to the American colonies. We can be free,” Gavin pleaded. “We’ll never be rich, but I will take care of you and our future family; you’ll never want for anything.”
Elise huddled into the corner of the carriage for support, her heart racing wildly as she considered Gavin’s words. She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him that yes, shewould go with him, today, tomorrow, next week, or whenever he was ready. She’d sacrifice anything to be his wife.
Gavin’s earnest blue eyes held her gaze, begging her for an answer as he reached for her hands. “Say yes. We’ll make a life together, a good life.”
Elise lowered her eyes, staring at their intertwined hands. If it were up to her, she’d give anything to be with him. No sacrifice would be too great, but she had to think of her family. Her father would be ruined if she ran off, as would her brothers who already had families to support. Her sisters would be left with no dowry, and their reputation would be tarnished by association. Amy would be fourteen in March. In a few short years, she would be ready to be wed, and her prospects would be nonexistent, thanks to a sister who selfishly ran off with no thought to her duty to her family.
“Gavin, I can’t,” Elise said miserably. “I can’t shame my father that way. He’s facing utter financial ruin, and this will be the end of him. Lord Asher will see that he’s disgraced and bankrupted if I humiliate him by running away. How can I be happy living with the knowledge that I ruined so many lives?”
“Elise, I know you have a duty to your family, but you have a duty to yourself as well.” Gavin looked stricken, as if the possibility of her refusal never figured in his plans.
“Do I? I’m just a woman, Gavin. I’ve nothing of my own, not even a voice. My father speaks for me until such a time as I’m given away in marriage. My only value is in how well I can marry and what I can bring to my family. I want nothing more than to be your wife, but I have no right to be so selfish. I’m the only one who can keep us from total ruin. Please forgive me,” she whispered as she looked up into his shocked face.
“So be it, then,” Gavin replied, his tone laced with bitter defeat. He pulled his hands away and looked at her tear-streaked face, his eyes studying her features as he wordlessly said goodbye.
“I cannot continue working for your father, Elise. I will wait until spring, then sail to the colonies. There are opportunities for men like me. It’s a chance for a fresh start. If you change your mind, before or even after the wedding, you know where to find me. But, by April, I will be gone. I’ll wait for you until then.”
“Don’t. I won’t be coming, Gavin. This is goodbye.”
Elise leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Gavin’s lips, but he remained unresponsive.
“Goodbye, Elise. May God keep you,” he said as he exited the carriage, pushed his hat onto his head, and strode out of the carriage house, leaving her alone and bereft. Elise knew that she’d done the right thing, but it was a cold comfort when faced with a lifetime of sadness.
FIVE
OCTOBER 2013
London, England
On Monday morning, Quinn dutifully presented herself at the morgue where the skeletal remains found in Mayfair had been taken for tests. Over the weekend, she’d scanned all the information available online about the find but learned little more than she already knew from Gabe. The only thing that offered any clues as to the time period of the murder was the picture of the chest taken by one of the workers on the site, but she needed a closer look to ascertain the period in which it might have been crafted.
Truth be told, Quinn was glad to be in London. Having spent her first weekend on her own, she was more than ready to leave the house and grasp the distraction of this case with both hands. She thought that she’d accepted the idea of Luke’s desertion, could forge ahead without him, but the time alone proved her wrong. They’d spoken about the future shortly before she left for the dig in Jerusalem. Luke had even hinted that he was ready for the next step, and she’d dreamed of a Christmastime proposal, but she could never have imagined that the next step for Luke would be a professorship in America.
Quinn was ready for marriage and thought that Luke had been too. And she had been eager to start a family, although she hadn’t mentioned that to Luke before she left. One step at a time was the way to go with Luke. She’d never known him to be impulsive. Luke was a planner, a list keeper. He wouldn’t havebeen open to having a child right away, but she would have talked him round sooner rather than later. Luke liked kids and mentioned his desire for a family a few times over the past few years. It had been Quinn who’d been apprehensive. She’d spent years focusing on her career and making a name for herself in academic circles, but now, at thirty, she seemed to melt every time she saw a sweet baby gazing at her from a passing pram and longed for the feel of chubby arms around her neck. There was a time when having a child seemed like a burden and an unnecessary hindrance to her success, but at this moment, she would give up all the ancient bones in the world for the comforting weight of a baby in her arms. But the promise of family had suddenly been snatched away from her, and she found herself mourning the loss of something that had been within her grasp only a few months before.
Quinn blanched as the smell of strong disinfectant assailed her senses. It failed to disguise the note of putrefaction hovering in the air. In fact, it only served to bring attention to it. Dr. Scott was in the middle of an autopsy, his apron covered with substances Quinn didn’t care to name. He gave her a wave through the Plexiglas window and held up his splayed hand, indicating that he’d be done in five minutes. Quinn took a seat outside, reserved for family members coming in to identify their loved ones, and stared out the window. The on-and-off rain that had stuck around all weekend had stopped, giving way to a glorious autumn morning. Everything was painted in shades of orange, crimson, and gold, the colors brilliant against an azure sky, the outside a stark contrast to the atmosphere of the morgue, where death ruled with an iron fist.
Dr. Scott finally came out, thankfully sans apron. He’d removed his latex gloves and shook Quinn’s hand, surprising her with the firmness of the handshake. Colin Scott wasn’t tall, but he was lithe, with graceful hands that looked as if they should be holding a paintbrush, not a scalpel. His long sandy hair was pulled back into a bun while he worked, and Quinn was fairly certain thathe was fully aware that his surgical cap exactly matched the shade of his eyes. Had she met him at a social function, she would never have taken him for a pathologist. An artist maybe, or a musician, even a writer, but never for a man who dissected cadavers for a living.
Dr. Scott’s sensual lips stretched into a warm smile as he released her hand.
“Dr. Allenby, a pleasure to meet you. Gabe told me you’d be stopping by.”
