Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno #4)(42)

Gabriel stopped pacing. “Work with Katherine.”

“I’ve already worked with Katherine. She supervised my MA thesis at Toronto, remember? How do you think it would look for me to work with her for both my thesis and my dissertation?”

“I think it will look fantastic. She’s the top Dante specialist in the world.”

“Cecilia said I’m too close to Katherine as it is.”

“Bullshit.” Gabriel continued pacing, like a caged lion. “Cecilia is not objective. Her assessments are clouded by envy.”

“Katherine can’t be my supervisor until she starts at Harvard, which is next year. Even then, she only has a visiting appointment.”

“She’s there to supervise graduate students. That was the deal.”

“What will it look like if Cecilia, who is the endowed chair in Dante Studies, refuses to work with me?”

“It will look like she’s a jealous bitch, that’s what it will look like.”

“What happens if something happens to Katherine? She’s in her seventies. What if she decides to leave? Or what if she . . .” Julia covered her face with her hands.

“Katherine is healthier than all of us.” Gabriel crouched in front of her, placing his hands on her knees.

“Some students take four to five years to complete their dissertation.” Julia’s voice was muffled. “Katherine will be in her eighties by then.”

“It won’t take you that long. Katherine understands the commitment involved.” Gabriel squeezed Julia’s knees.

“It isn’t just the dissertation. Katherine is family.”

Gabriel pressed his lips together. “Family is everything. That’s why I’m not going to Scotland without you.”

Julia lowered her hands. Their eyes met. “I don’t want you to cancel the Sage Lectures. You have to go.”

Gabriel patted her knee. “Then let me intervene.”

“That will make it worse. Cecilia is angry. We need to give her time to calm down.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“I don’t, either, Gabriel. But remember, I’m supposed to be going to Professor Wodehouse’s workshop with Cecilia in April. If I create a rift with her now, that could jeopardize my invitation.”

“Wodehouse is in charge.”

“Please, Gabriel. I’m just asking for a little time.”

He stood, frowning. “You give up too easily. People take advantage of you.”

She stood toe to toe with him, her lower lip trembling with anger. “I’m not giving up! I’m simply not making a power move right now. I’m trying to be smart.”

“It’s smart to fight.”

“It’s smart to survive long enough to fight another day. Then you can regroup and confront your enemy with a reasoned strategy and greater support. Then perhaps you won’t need to fight.”

Gabriel stared. “You’ve been reading The Art of War.”

“No, I’ve been studying feminist literature.”

Gabriel’s mouth twitched and his anger melted away. “I know better than to fight that army. I surrender to you and your sisters.” He pulled her into his arms.

She hugged him back.

“But only for now,” he whispered.





Chapter Twenty-Nine


The following afternoon

Boston Fencing Club

Brighton, Massachusetts

Gabriel was frustrated. He’d received another text from Jack Mitchell.


Looked into the roommate and the senator’s son.

Nothing.



As always, Jack was the soul of brevity. Gabriel would have to call him in order to find out the full import of his text.

At the thought, Gabriel thrust his saber, warming up before facing his opponent.

He hadn’t told Julianne about the black Nissan or her uncle Jack’s latest mission. Since there was nothing to report, at least to date, his decision was vindicated. But there were other, deeper concerns that weighed on him.

Julianne had been adamant he not intervene with Cecilia. Although he could have ignored Julianne’s wishes, he wouldn’t do so. Which meant he was feeling impotent in addition to being angry. Impotence was not a state he was familiar with, which was why he was at his fencing club, working out his multiple frustrations.

His coach and fencing partner was Michel, a quiet, older gentleman who hailed from Montreal. Michel was a former Olympian and a formidable opponent. Gabriel admired him.

Gabriel preferred the saber to the foil or épée, because it was the fastest of the three fencing events. It rewarded aggression through the right of way and used a heavier weapon. The slashing capability of the saber was enormously satisfying.

Gabriel longed to challenge Julianne’s enemies to a duel, one by one. But he would have to be content to fence with his coach. The men put on their helmets and saluted one another.

One of the other members of the club, who was acting as referee, shouted, “En garde. Prêts? Allez!”

And the bout began.

Michel attacked immediately and Gabriel parried, continuing into a riposte. Michel quickly parried and made contact with Gabriel’s right shoulder, scoring a point.

As the fencers retreated to the en garde lines, Gabriel adjusted his helmet.