Rogues Gallery Read Online Free

himself, unwilling to entrust it to anyone else.
    He had to put his mind at ease, and he knew of only one way to do so.
Chapter 2
    Gabriel tiptoed down a darkened hallway of Westbrook Hall. At a sound, he paused in his stealthy advance, pressing himself against the wall. He adjusted the leather mask, grinning at the utter madness of this quest.
    He did not worry about encountering a guard or sentry. Westbrook Hall was so vast it would be impossible to guard every wing completely. The house was secure primarily because no one would dare to breach the sanctity of such a place.
    Gabriel released his breath. The noise was not anyone approaching; it was merely the sounds of an ancient house settling in for the long dark hours until dawn.
    He recommenced his furtive approach to the bedchamber that had meant so much in his dreams. It was the haven he mentally returned to when waiting for justice became unbearable.
    He rested his hand on the door latch, his heart racing. Was there any reason to open the door and have his dream shattered? Did he want to confront the dreadful reality—it was a simple room, nothing more, not a child's fanciful sanctuary?
    It was situated in a remote wing of the sprawling house, so it was doubtful the room had been used in ages. In all likelihood, any traces of a child's bedchamber—not to mention his very existence—had long ago been locked away.
    Surely Edmund would want no further reminders of the nephew he had so cruelly deceived.
    Gabriel brushed aside the lingering ache. He pressed the latch, his other hand against the door, and opened it a fraction at a time.
    He crept into the room and closed the door behind him, not even a click of the latch betraying his presence. With great stealth, he moved forward into the darkened room.
    How much smaller it was than he remembered.
    Little seemed familiar, except for the massive bed he had long ago begged his parents to drag down from the attics. It had served as a fortress against the imaginary infidels he had vanquished with a toy sword, as well as a hiding place when his tutor insisted on lessons unpalatable to a young boy.
    Gabriel sighed as the memories swamped him. In their wake were fury and resentment at having his life stolen from him as a child. He hadn't expected such a flood of emotions, especially the renewed sensation of pain caused so many years ago by Lord Westbrook.
    He inhaled in an effort to restore his calm. In the next instant he caught his breath and held it.
    Something had moved in the bed .
    The room should have been empty, but he realized too late it was not. Remnants of a fire glowed in the fireplace against the far wall, and he could see now there were no telltale signs of neglect in the bedchamber.
    Gabriel crept forward to see who occupied the bed he still considered his. The embers of the dying fire highlighted a young woman in deep sleep, a froth of blonde hair enveloping her. He reached his hand toward the golden silkiness, so reminiscent of the intrepid beauty earlier that night.
    His hand stilled.
    It was Lord Westbrook's betrothed.
    Gabriel lowered his hand over the sleeping beauty's mouth, simultaneously waking her and stifling her scream. She clawed at his hand, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to move further away from him.
    Gabriel slanted forward to restrain her, pinning her down with his arms. He felt a moment's remorse at causing her such anguish, particularly when she battled him even more fiercely. Yet he had too much at stake should she sound an alarm.
    "Ssh, angel. You'll come to no harm at my hand if you cooperate."
    He leaned closer, intent on reassuring her further, but the softness of her warm body nearly distracted him. She tugged at his hand once more, trying to get free of his grip.
    "I do not mean to harm you."
    She raised her eyebrows, and he could swear her expression was an exasperated one. Instead of being frightened by his presence, she was signaling she found his tactics rather clumsy.
    He