Page 11 of A Fearless Heart
Gabe leaned forward. The rung he stood on sagged, then snapped. He gripped the ivy vines hard, dangling for a moment with that twelve-foot drop below. He took a breath then hoisted himself to the top of the wall, scrambling for a steady perch. His heart thudded at the thought of his near fall. He did not fancy the idea of smashing his head on the flagstones below.
He contemplated jumping into the moonlit garden, but then thought better of it. First, if all the gates were locked, he’d be in a silver-gilded cage. Second, from the top of the wall, he could now see that there were more spaces beyond, possibly more gardens walled off from the world, but perhaps something else. Ahead, glass flashed as the moonlight hit it. Some kind of conservatory?
Gabe was no acrobat, but he could crawl easily along the top of the wall, confident that the thick growth of ivy would provide footholds and some extra breadth as he moved.
After the moonlit garden, he saw another rectangular yard, this one featuring small buildings in the corners. One had a sloping glass roof, with gold light emanating from below. The shifting of the light suggested someone was within, moving around.
He paused, wondering if he heard something. After a moment, there it was again.
“Very good, my darling. You’re growing so well! So much faster than the last crop.”
It was Arcadia’s voice. But there was no fear in the tone now, just a happy cadence like that of a mother talking to her child. Was she talking to her plants? Maybe Lady Arcadia wasn’t just a murderer, she was also insane. Something that could change the assignment considerably.
He heard her humming then, a little tune that repeated after a few bars. He didn’t know the melody, but there was something haunting about it. He leaned over a few more inches, hoping to get even a glimpse of what was beyond that glass. Then his nose picked up something else.
A scent. Faint but intoxicating, like a recollection of a warmer season. The image of the first woman he’d ever been with flashed across his mind. He hadn’t thought about that encounter inyears, yet now he could count the freckles sprinkled across her chest.
The memory mingled with the strange humming sound, and he felt dizzy for a moment, lost between past and present. He swayed to the right, almost losing his balance. He made a grab for a thicker branch of the ivy, his heart hammering.
He didn’t fall, but he also felt much less secure than he had only moments ago.
And the humming had stopped. His movement must have alerted whoever was inside. Instinct told Gabe to drop down to a prone position, stretched on his stomach along the wall.
Not a moment too soon. A door swung open, spilling gold light out in a wedge shape. A wave of the elusive scent spilled out too. Gabe inhaled a second too late and caught a huge whiff of it.
A woman’s silhouette filled the doorway. Arcadia, looking around in a slow, sweeping examination of the walled yard.
Don’t move, he thought.Don’t even breathe.
Gabe reminded himself that the lady couldn’t see as much as he could. She’d just stepped from a well-lit room, so she was night-blind, her eyes not adjusted to the darkness. If he stayed absolutely still, he’d blend in with the other shadows. His body should be hidden within the rough outline of the mass of ivy against the sky.
God, the way she scanned the area, her gaze running over anything and everything. Did she pause when her eyes passed over Gabe? Or was that his imagination?
The air in his lungs seemed heavy with that scent, and he thought he might pass out. He exhaled, hot breath slipping between his lips into cool night air, dangerously close to becoming visible mist.
“Oscar?” she called out, questioning.
No answer, and no hint of whether she’d noticed Gabe’s figure. Who the hell was Oscar?
She took one step forward, head swiveling as she did so. He saw how wide her eyes were, and the quick rise and fall of her chest. She was nervous, not angry.
Then she withdrew, pushing the door shut behind her, plunging the garden into darkness. Gabe remained where he was, just in case she emerged again. But when he heard the sound of a bolt sliding home, he knew she was locking herself away once more.
He inhaled, more deeply this time. Now the scent had gone, his head cleared. What was she brewing in there?
Since he was already up here, and he felt steady again, he continued his exploration. Next to that yard was a long, narrow building entirely made of glass. Christ, this place. It was a labyrinth, seemingly constructed to hide secrets within secrets.
No outsider could hope to understand the layout of all the buildings and gardens, let alone know what each one contained. He could wander in this place for years and not find what he was looking for. He needed a key. He needed to coax Arcadia Osbourne to his side.
But that was easier said than done. Seduction was usually the most direct way, and he’d never felt any compunction about it. He was a spy working amid other spies, and it wasn’t as if the women moving in those circles were exactly innocents.
However, Arcadia Osbourne defied all his expectations. Reclusive, eccentric, and decidedly not eager to dally with any man who crossed her path. She was a challenge.
Gabe liked challenges.
Chapter 7
Cady woke early and spenther morning in the glasshouse, harvesting a crop of cola nuts that had finally ripened. In the morning light, the glasshouses were a haven. At night, the reflections on the glass sometimes made her think that someone might be outside, watching.
