A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) (25 page)

“I am trying to unravel a spider’s web. The work is meticulous and painstaking. It is possible Weston isn’t a threat, only a gentleman pursuing a beautiful young woman. But after tonight, we must treat everyone who is interested in Gabby as a suspect. I am now informing you of the possibility, as I will Mademoiselle Gabby when I speak to her. You now know about Weston, but you must not interfere with his pursuit of Mademoiselle Gabby.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Michael sat in a stuffed armchair beside Gabby’s bed, pouring over Madame Abney’s arias. Every few minutes he would get up and check on a sleeping Gabby. The covers were pulled up to her neck, revealing only a mass of honeyed curls and her pale skin. Since the attempt on Gabby’s life, no one cared about the rules of propriety. Lady Gwyneth and Amelia had retired after the eventful evening, leaving him in charge of Gabby’s care.

He wanted to tend to every need for Gabby in the same gentle way she had cared for him. But since everyone had left, she slept deeply and restfully.

Gabby had sustained a nasty head wound and subsequently a very bad headache. According to the esteemed Dr. Oglethorpe, she would be right as rain after a few days of rest. Michael should have been relieved by the doctor’s prognosis, but her rapid recovery would mean she would soon be returning to the opera and to danger.

He was exhausted, but he needed to study the music. The sooner he figured out the pattern, the sooner Gabby and the king would be safe.

He leaned back in the chair, resting his neck, and closed his eyes to visualize the possible variations of coded notes in the music.

* * *

Michael woke to Gabby’s voice. He bounded out of the chair abruptly, sheets of music scattering across the floor. Confused for a brief second, he looked around the blue lady’s room.

“Michael? Why are you sleeping in a chair? Here, in my bedroom?” Gabby was wide awake, her eyes shining bright, and color had returned to her smooth skin. She was upright with the pillows behind her back and the covers pulled up to her neck.

He couldn’t stop staring at her striking fresh countenance. Michael sat down gingerly, on the edge of her bed, careful not to jar her. He took her hand that rested on the top of the cover. “I was tending to your care and studying Madame Abney’s arias, until I fell asleep.”

“Does Lady Gwyneth know you’re here?”

“Yes, I have everyone’s blessing. And I’ve sworn to be here only in the role of nurse.”

“You’re my nurse?” An attractive pink color flushed across her face.

“After what happened last night, everyone is more concerned for your safety than the rules of propriety.”

“Aunt Euphemia knows about your presence here…in my bedroom?”

“Yes, my dear. But their opinions wouldn’t have mattered. I was not going to leave your side.”

Gabby’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Do you still have a headache? The doctor left a powder for you if your head hurts.” Michael squeezed her hand.

“I’m fine. Only a bit of a headache.”

“I’m so sorry, Gabby. It was my fault, I shoved you too hard.”

“No, you saved my life. If you hadn’t seen those men, I don’t know…”

“Don’t think about it now. You need to rest.”

“I don’t feel tired. What time is it?”

Michael stood and moved to open the heavy drapes. He spread them apart and peered up at the dawning light.

“The sun is about to rise.” He came back to stand next to her. He wanted to soothe the corkscrew curls from her forehead as he had done during the night. “Do you want a sip of water?”

She gave him an impish smile. “I had some while you were sleeping.”

“What a nurse I’ve turned out to be. Not doing half as well as you did taking care of me.”

“You were really very ill. I’m not sick. I injured myself and will be better in no time.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try to fall back asleep? Everyone will be up soon and will want to check on you. For the short time you’ve been in England you’ve developed loyal friendships.” Not that Michael was surprised, since how could anyone resist her gentle, loving nature. He wasn’t sure when he’d lost his heart completely to the French minx, possibly when she had soothed his hurt feelings over the change in his household.

“Did they catch the men?”

Michael wasn’t sure how much he should confide when she had just awakened. “Why don’t I call your maid? And I’ll come back this afternoon and we can talk about what’s happened.”

“No, I don’t want my maid. I want you to tell me what you know.”

Michael looked down at her serious face, her blue, blue eyes focused on him. She deserved to know. “The men escaped. No one knows who they were.”

“But they have to be Napoleon’s men.”

“Gabby, I have a lot to tell you. Are you sure you don’t want to wait? We can talk this afternoon.”

“If someone tried to kill you…” Gabby shuddered involuntarily, “…would you want to wait?”

Michael took a deep breath. “Only because you insist. And if I see any signs of fatigue, those bright blue eyes getting droopy, I’m going to stop. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Gabby shifted in the bed and the covers dropped, revealing her thin muslin nightgown, and although it was buttoned up to her neck, Michael couldn’t stop from staring at her rounded, full breasts and couldn’t stop the heat of lust roaring through him.

“Michael, what’s wrong? Your face is bright red.”

“Because, my sweet innocent, I’ve sworn on my honor to be a gentleman, but you in bed, in an alluring nightgown, makes it hard for a man to honor his pledge.”

“This nightgown isn’t seductive. It’s a plain muslin gown.”

“It’s not the nightgown, it’s you, Gabby. You in a nightgown is too tempting for a man…”

Innocent as Gabby was, her lips turned into a knowing, womanly smile. “But my plain bedclothes pale in comparison to Madame Abney’s dressing gown.”

“I never had trouble breathing, feeling as if all the air has been sucked out of the room, in response to Madame Abney in her dressing gown. Only because of one pink-faced, seductive French siren in a white nightgown.” He leaned over, placing both his hands next to her shoulders. “I wasn’t pursuing Madame Abney. I am trying to find out whether French spies are sending messages in her music.”

Gabby flinched. “Madame Abney is a spy?”

“Possibly.”

She whispered, as if someone might hear her. “She’s sending messages to spies in her music?”

“We know that messages are being sent to French spies from the opera house.”

She leaned away from him. “Are you sure you should be telling me this information? Do you know that my brother was a French spy?”

“Yes, I’ve gotten approval to tell you about my work because of last night. We think you might have discovered something in Madame Abney’s music and that was the reason that man tried to kill you.”

Gabby clenched her hands on the bed covers. “It wasn’t Napoleon’s men?”

“Napoleon doesn’t gain anything by having you killed.”

Gabby chewed on her lower lip as she stared into space. “I was wondering the same thing. The only reason I could come up with was Napoleon is angry that I defied him, the First Consul, so he ordered me to be killed.”

Michael hated seeing the bewildered look on Gabby’s face when she explained the reason Napoleon wanted her dead. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I’m sorry. I wish I had the answers.”

“But wouldn’t I know if I discovered something in the music?”

“Most likely not since they’re using codes in the music to hide messages.”

“And because you’re skilled in deciphering codes, you are supposed to find the message.”

“How do you know about my skills?”

“You talked a lot when you had the fever.”

“Holy…” Michael stopped himself. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How would I tell you? Tell you I knew you were in France on a secret mission? I’m French. Our countries are at war. And then, when I found out my brother was a spy, I thought you’d never trust me.”

Michael pressed his lips to the warm tender skin on her wrist. “I trusted you the minute I met you.”

“But I was disguised as a boy.”

“And you couldn’t stop laughing when I fell off the settee. I think I fell in love with the impish smile then.”

“Love?” Gabby eyes searched his face.

“You must know how I feel about you. I promised to court you, but I’m not sure I can wait. My promises are honorable.”

“But you and Madame Abney on the settee?” Her lashes lifted, treating him to the sight of her vulnerable and questioning eyes.

“I swear, on my French mother’s good name, I was trying to escape the lady’s clutches.” Michael watched Gabby’s eyes warm.

She followed a thread on the counterpane with her finger, avoiding looking at him. “Courting one woman and having an affair with another is done all the time by French gentlemen. My father had a mistress. My mother pretended it didn’t hurt her, but I never could be as complacent as my mother.”

Michael lifted her hand. “You never have to worry about me. I will never hurt you, Gabby.” He rubbed his finger in light circles on her soft wrist, enjoying the way Gabby’s breath quickened and her lips parted.

He could seduce her right now. His sweet French musician wanted him as much as he wanted her. No one would be up for another hour. They could marry by special license. He lifted her hand to his lips and used his tongue to paint circles on her sensitive wrist.

Gabby gasped. Her sweet breasts moving under the virginal nightgown. He wanted to unbutton every one of the pearl buttons and then use his mouth and lips on her soft, flushed skin.

He started to reach for her, when he stopped suddenly. Someone had just tried to kill her and he was thinking about his own needs, not about what Gabby needed.

He jerked up from the side of the bed, walking toward the window. “My God, Gabby, you’re a test of my control.”

Her pupils were dilated, her breaths coming in little pants.

“Let’s talk about what you saw in the music. Can you remember anything?” He was trying to get his mind onto another topic rather than on seducing his sweet Gabby, an injured and innocent woman. He was turning into a cad, but only around Gabby, only Gabby. “I’m sorry, you’ve had a horrible night. My questions can wait.”

“No, I want to help. I need to see and hear the music.”

Michael rushed back to her side, knelt by the bed, and took her hand. “My God, if there were any way not to involve you, I would do it.”

“No, I want to help. I want to be of use. Don’t shield me as if I’m still locked away to be kept ignorant in a convent. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. Please, let me help.”

Michael released her hand and stood. “You’re like Hen. She needs to be involved, to use her mind.”

“Thank you for understanding why this is important to me. I can’t remain unware and uninvolved.”

“I’m not agreeing that I won’t do everything in my power to keep you away from the danger.”

“Of course.” With her sweet gentle manner, Michael knew he’d probably never be able to say no to this one woman who captured his heart.

He walked to the window and opened the curtains wide. “When we were in Madame Abney’s dressing room before the opera, you were perusing her music and said something about the notes. Do you remember?”

“Yes, the notes by her husband made no musical sense. He had scrawled changes to the rhythm along the side of the sheet, next to the bars of music. He had changed the entire rhythm by altering the whole notes and rests into quarter notes and half notes. I need to see the notes again to look at the pattern.”

“Was there only one page of his writing?”

“No, he made notations throughout the cantata.”

“My God, the notes are the coded messages. I’ve gone through the opera repeatedly and found nothing. I need to see those notes. I need to see Madame Abney today.”

“You’re going to see her?” Gabby voice squeaked.

“Gabby, darling, I’ve got to find the code. These contain plots against the king’s life. I must find their messages to prevent calamity.”

Gabby chewed on her lower lip. “I’m not being a jealous woman…well a bit, since I did see the way Madame Abney looked at you as if you were her favorite dessert.”

“Gabby, you’re not supposed to know such things.” Michael felt the tops of his ears burning.

“I’ve a better plan that doesn’t involve the lady and you. What if I send a note telling the lady that, during my recovery, I would like to practice the music before I perform for Madame? It is a reasonable request.”

Michael paced. “But if you ask for the music, it might alert Madame that you know about the messages or the person who tried to kill you. It means the person will come after you.”

“Exactly. But I don’t believe Madame is passing the messages. It must be her husband. Madame is a musician, and she’ll want to hear me play and want to share her passion. And I’m happy as long as she doesn’t share any of her passion with you.”

“It is too dangerous. I can’t allow you.”