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Gabriel abruptly stood and Quinn knew that look as she stood herself and slowly started walking backwards out of the room.
He moved in a slow, deliberate prowl like a predator zeroing in on his prey and she nervously asked, "What are you doing, Gabriel?"
"Keep walking, love, you're heading in the right direction."
Quinn's knees immediately turned to noodles. "What about dessert?"
His smile was positively wicked as he replied, "We can have dessert upstairs."
And then he lunged for her and lifted her over his shoulder as her laughter filled the room.
Gabriel wasn't home, left cryptically earlier in the day to tend to some "business" so Quinn decided to take a more thorough tour of his home. The place was massive, far larger than Whispering Winds, and it was old. She guessed early 1300s by the architecture.
She toured through the library, played a few tunes on the piano in the music room, checked out the other bedrooms, all of which were rather masculine, before she made her way to the fourth floor. At the end of the hall was the nursery and connected to the nursery was the school room. It looked very much like Nickie's room though this room had much less light and there was a cane hooked on the wall. The sight of it disturbed Quinn. There was no reason for that to be there, no reason to cane a child, and without another thought Quinn walked to the wall to retrieve the cane. But stopped short when she saw the name carved by a child's hand into the wood.
"Oh my God," she fell to her knees as her finger reached out to trace the name of the child who had called this room, this estate, home: Archer Scarcliff.
This was Archer's father's home, the place he vowed to shut down once he became the Earl. The place where he had been sequestered, away from his mother's loving arms and his sisters' companionship. This had been Archer's prison and his father his jailer. A rage filled her as she thought of a young Archer being whipped and beaten by his father as he filled the young boy's head with bullshit rhetoric while denying him a childhood and friends.
Before she fully understood her own intent she grabbed the cane and beat it against the wall until it broke into pieces and then moved to the desk, lifting it with some difficulty before throwing it into the wall, over and over again. The wood splintered and dug into her flesh, tearing it as blood dripped from the wounds. But she didn't stop, couldn't stop, until the entire room was laid to waste. Then she slid down the wall, dropped her forehead onto her upturned knees and that was when the tears came, turning quickly into sobs. She grieved for Archer, the little boy he had been and the man he had become, but mostly she cried for Gabriel because he had made his home in the one place he had vowed never again to enter.
This was how Mr. Payne found her, sobbing in the midst of the destruction she had caused.
"Well, I say it's about time. I always hated this room."
Quinn lifted her head and stared at Mr. Payne wondering how long the man had been standing there. She lifted her hands to wipe at her eyes and saw the mess she had made of them.
"Oh dear," Mr. Payne immediately hurried over pulling his handkerchief from his pocket so he could wrap Quinn's hands in the silk.
"We need to get these tended." He met Quinn's gaze. "Are you ready to leave now?"
Quinn scanned the results of her flip out and was satisfied to see that everything in the room had been destroyed before her focus turned back to Mr. Payne.
"Yes."
A few hours later, Quinn was lying down on the sofa in the library, a warm blanket covering her, as a fire burned in the grate. Her hands were bandaged and in lieu of pain killers she had two three-fingers of scotch, so she was feeling happily numb. She heard Gabriel's heavy footfalls as he came down the hall. He appeared in the doorway and she felt her heart flip over in her chest. He moved with such grace as he walked across the room then he hunched down in front of her. He gently lifted her one bandaged hand to hold in both of his.
"Oh, love, what did you do?"
Looking into his beautiful face she couldn't help but see him as a child on the streets of Dublin, as the child beaten in the accursed room upstairs, and her tears started again.
"Shh, love, please don't cry."
"Did you know?"
A hardness came into his voice when he replied, "No."
"I killed the room and I'm not sorry."
He stroked her hair but a smile curved his lips. "I only wish I was here to help you. Maybe I could have prevented you from butchering your hands."
"It was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of destroying that hateful room."
"Quinn, my own avenging angel."
The effect of the alcohol was starting to take its toll as her lids grew heavy and when she spoke, her words were barely audible. "If anyone ever deserved an angel, it would be you, Gabriel."
He pulled her blanket up and pressed a kiss to her forehead as love swelled in his chest for the magnificent creature before him. He waited until her breathing evened out into that of sleep before he stood and walked to the fireplace.
