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Suddenly Archer's vow popped into her head.I will spend the rest of my days loving you and when my time on this Earth ends I will be waiting for you. We will find each other again.Was the man she fell in love with 300 years ago somehow the man who now sat across from her? She felt a connection to Gabriel: it was that same involuntary slow burn she felt whenever she had been in the presence of Archer. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Gabriel was no longer looking at his menu but at her.
"Quinn?"
His softly spoken inquiry and the tenderness she saw looking back at her had her speaking without thought, "You're beautiful."
A slight pink tinged his cheeks and his blush touched her. Was he, too, like Archer, raised to believe that love and affection were nonsense? In that moment, she wanted to know everything about Gabriel; more than what he had shared in his letters. She wanted to know all there was to know about him. The waiter came to take their orders and to serve their wine. After he left, Quinn met Gabriel's gaze.
"Tell me about your childhood," she said.
He looked uncomfortable at the question but to her surprise he answered:
"Some twenty-odd-years ago I was a homeless kid struggling to survive the rookery in Dublin. My mother left as soon as I was born. Probably because my father was a mean and abusive drunk. The bottle finally killed him and I was alone. Living that way, wondering where your next meal was going to come from; if you were going to live out the week, the month, the year, can either break you or give you the fire you need to get out. I was the latter, determined to get out of that hell, and so I started working any job that would make me money. I'm not proud of some of the jobs I took but when you're starving you'd be surprised how survival overrules your judgment. As I grew I watched the ones I worked for, paid attention to how they conducted their businesses, listened in on meetings and negotiations. When I was big enough to fend for myself, I started my own enterprises like backroom gambling and money lending. Eventually I made enough money to pull myself out of that shady lifestyle and started investing in legitimate businesses."
"How old were you?" Quinn asked.
"My dad died when I was seven," he softly said.
"My God," she whispered as her heart broke thinking about him as a beautiful black-haired, green-eyed child of seven struggling to survive on the streets of Dublin.
He reached across the table to cover her hand with his own. "It was a long time ago and though it was hard I survived and learned lessons that have stayed with me ever since."
"And you give back." Quinn wasn't asking since she knew of Gabriel's tireless work with the homeless and underprivileged, especially children.
"Yes, I know what it's like to live in the underbelly of a big city and I know that I was lucky to rise up out of it, most don't."
Quinn squeezed his hand and said, "You're a good man, Gabriel."
"Not good, thankful," he replied.
Dinner was served and as they ate they chatted about silly things like their favorite music, best movies, whether they were dog or cat people. When the subject turned to the Scarcliffs and Whispering Winds, they were just being served their desserts.
"Why the interest in Whispering Winds and the Scarcliffs?" Quinn inquired.
"The current Duke is a really good friend, plus there's a lot of mystery around the family, particularly the older generations, and I've always been fascinated with mysteries. Not to mention Whispering Winds, itself. There's an undeniably romantic lure to the place and being so close to my home, I think I was just drawn to it."
Maybe drawn to it for more reasons than that but Quinn kept her silence. She had the impression that what he answered wasn't exactly all of it but she didn't press. His story wasn't that different from Archer's, abusive father and absent mother, and still he made himself into someone anyone would be proud to know.
His soft voice pulled her from her distant thoughts, "Quinn."
"Sorry, I was just thinking that I am really very glad that you and I finally met in person," she said.
A self-deprecating grin spread over his sensual mouth. "My jaded past doesn't bother you?" he joked.
"No, but what will bother me is if you don't share that cre´me brulee," she teased back.
After a thoroughly enjoyable dinner, Gabriel and Quinn walked through the village. It was the same village Quinn had come to before but it was no longer small and quaint. Quinn looked in wonder at the rather large bustling town that even had a Starbucks on the corner.
She noticed the pub, Jack O'Shea's pub, and before she could stop herself she reached for Gabriel's hand and pulled him toward the sounds of lively conversation streaming out into the night. It looked exactly as she remembered and when Jack appeared from the back, and their eyes met, there was recognition on both sides. Jack came from around the counter and approached them but his attention was only on Quinn.
"Have we met before, lass?" Jack asked.
"I think maybe so. I'm Quinn and this is Gabriel."
"I'm Jack. Welcome to my place. You came on a good night, there'll be dancing shortly."
"Perfect," Quinn replied enthusiastically.
Jack turned to go but looked at Quinn from over his shoulder and said, "We have definitely met before because I never forget a face."
