Page 24 of The Lovers
“Ye daft fool,” Molly breathed as she studied his face with a look of abject pity. “Ye care for ’er, don’t ye?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” James retorted but heard the note of panic in his voice. Molly always saw right through him; he didn’t need to say a word.
“James, ye’ll come to no good if you go on this way,” Molly chided.
“I’m not a child, Moll,” James replied, suddenly feeling defensive. “I’m a grown man who knows his own mind.”
“Oh, really? Do ye? And what is in that mind of yers?” Molly demanded.
James was about to reply when Molly’s attention shifted to the baby. He could tell by her look of dismay that Harry had stopped nursing. He couldn’t have gotten much milk in the past few minutes, but his eyes were already closed, and he looked tired and pale.
“Oh, ’ave mercy on us, Lord Jesus,” Molly breathed as she gazed at her son.
James opened his mouth to speak but suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know much about babies, but even he could tell that Harry was barely holding on to this life. Molly turned her face away toward the hearth, but James knew that she was hiding her tears.
“I’d better go,” James said awkwardly.
“Yes. Thank ye for the sweets. Elizabeth will be pleased.”
James closed the door softly behind him and walked away, his heart heavier than it had been when he arrived.
FIFTEEN
NOVEMBER 2013
Surrey, England
Quinn lifted her arm out of the deliciously warm water in the tub and reached for her vibrating mobile. She wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone, having just spent time in the seventeenth century with Elise and James, but it was Gabe, and they hadn’t spoken since he’d visited her nearly a week ago.
“Hi, Gabe,” she said, hoping that Gabe called just to chat and not to discuss her investigation. She wasn’t ready to share with him what she’d seen. Not yet. “How are you?”
“Splendid,” Gabe replied sarcastically. “I’ve just had a call from Rhys Morgan. He wants a written proposal for the first episode on his desk by Monday morning.”
Quinn sighed, annoyed. “Gabe, I’ve only just received the report from Dr. Scott. I’ve barely had any time to do any research. I’m simply not ready.”
“I know, but Morgan wants an outline for the program, and he wants to discuss the dramatization.”
Quinn growled into the phone, making Gabe laugh. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about Rhys Morgan. He had impressed her, that was true, but he’d also put her on her guard, placing her at a disadvantage. He wanted her to headline his new series but somehow still managed to make her feel as if she should be the one impressing him and defending her reputation.
“Why don’t you come up to London tomorrow? We’ll have dinner, a couple of drinks, and discuss this when you’re in a better mood,” Gabe suggested. Quinn could hear the smile in his voice. Gabe knew her well enough to realize that she was growing weary of solitude and would love some company, especially if the company was as pleasant and undemanding as Gabe’s.
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you come here? I’ll cook. To be honest, I’m a little travel worn right now.”
“Even better. What can I bring?”
“Yourself and a bottle of sauvignon blanc,” Quinn replied, smiling to herself. It’d been ages since she actually used her kitchen for anything more than making toast. It would be nice to have someone to cook for.
“Seven all right?”
“Perfect.”
Quinn hung up the phone and slid deeper into the hot water.
Gabe showed up on time, bearing two bottles of wine and a happy grin. He opened one of the bottles while Quinn dressed the salad and sliced the loaf of Italian bread she’d picked up earlier. It was crusty and fresh, and it would go well with the seasoned olive oil she’d set out on the table next to a dish of olives.
“Something smells great,” Gabe said as he handed her a glass of wine. Gabe appreciated good food but could barely boil water and ate most of his meals out. His refrigerator usually contained milk, chilled white wine, and not much else.
“Homemade gnocchi Bolognese,” Quinn replied proudly. She’d spent hours making the meal, but the simple task of cooking made her feel relaxed and purposeful. She liked to listen to whatever music was appropriate to her menu, so she slipped in adisc ofToscaand allowed the soaring music to fill the previously silent space, making her feel less alone. She fancied herself an independent woman who didn’t need a man to complete her, but the absence of companionship weighed heavily on her. It’d been a long time since she lived alone, and she was finding it a challenge.
