Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno #4)(66)

che dietro la memoria non può ire.

“Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat

Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; “Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far,

That after it the memory cannot go.”



So Dante wrote in the first canto of Paradiso, imagining Beatrice at his side. So Gabriel, in attempting to pen a lecture fit for a world audience, was struggling.

When Dante was scolded by Beatrice near the end of Purgatorio, the narrative shifted. Theology structured the entire Divine Comedy but it became, perhaps, far more confrontational when presenting the purpose of humankind and the nature of God and his governance.

In Purgatorio, Beatrice told Dante that his desire for her was supposed to direct him to the highest good, which was God. So what was at one point a story of romantic, courtly love became a story of the love one should have for God. And as the relationship between Dante and God was transformed, so the relationship between Dante and Beatrice was transformed. Or so Gabriel thought.

Gabriel knew his interpretation could be textually and historically supported. But he wondered how the audience in Scotland would respond. Despite his cross-appointment in the Department of Religion at Boston University, Gabriel was not a theologian. And unlike Dante, he was hesitant to venture into such subjects.

But here he was, awake on Christmas Eve, pondering the vagaries of love, devotion, and salvation, all while those he loved most lay fast asleep.

Whatever promises Dante had made to Beatrice, he’d fallen short of those commitments after her death. Gabriel, too, had made promises; first, to his wife, and second, to his child.

How could he leave them in Massachusetts while he moved to Scotland? Someone had invaded their home, touched their things, and potentially left behind a threat. He could no more leave his wife and child unprotected than he could willingly tear out his heart.

In a flash, his fingers flew across the keyboard,


Dear University Council Members of the University of Edinburgh, While I am grateful for your generous invitation for me to deliver the Sage Lectures in 2014, I regret I must decline. If there would be a possibility to reschedule the lectures to a later date, I would be most grateful.

I apologize for declining at this juncture and under these circumstances. However, I find my home and my family under threat and so I cannot in good conscience relocate to Scotland for the 2013–2014 academic year.


With much regret,

Professor Gabriel O. Emerson, PhD

Department of Romance Studies

Department of Religion

Boston University



Gabriel sat back in his chair and reread the email. Then he closed his computer.





Chapter Fifty-One


Christmas morning

Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania

Gabriel had been busy.

In true, Santa-like fashion, he’d stuffed the stockings that were hung with care from the mantel and placed carefully wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree.

(No, he hadn’t wrapped the gifts himself. He’d done what every self-respecting husband did at Christmas; he’d had the associates at the various stores wrap gifts for him.)

Now he was lighting a fire in the fireplace.

“I thought Father Christmas wore red.”

Gabriel cursed, his hand clutching his heart.

A warmhearted chuckle emanated from the armchair near the window. A wrinkled hand reached out and switched on a nearby lamp. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Katherine.” Gabriel drew a deep breath as his heart began beating normally. She’d given him quite a shock and ever since the break-in, he’d found himself jumpier than usual.

He gazed down at the pajamas that Julianne had gifted him the night before—green tartan flannel with images of moose imposed on them. “Father Christmas is an environmentalist this year and paying tribute to the moose population.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m still on Oxford time and have been awake for hours. I took the liberty of assembling an English baked omelet for everyone. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“I left out the tomatoes because some people don’t like them.” She refilled her china teacup from the teapot next to her. “I’m grateful you allowed me to invite myself for Christmas. I’ve grown tired of my extended family and their shenanigans. Did you know my cousin rang me back in November to say they were having a vegan Christmas dinner? I tend toward vegetarianism but even for me, that was a bridge too far. I knew you’d have the good sense to serve something other than Tofurkey.”

“Ah, yes. Julianne and Rachel are cooking a genuine turkey.”

“Excellent.” Katherine pursed her lips. “I had an interesting conversation with your sister on the way from the airport.”

“Oh?” Gabriel sat near the fire and leaned forward, resting his forearms over his knees.

“Yes, oh. What’s this about your house being robbed?” Katherine’s blue-gray eyes pierced Gabriel’s.

“An intruder disabled our house alarm and broke in. He didn’t take anything, but we surprised him and chased him from the house.”

“It’s a wonder you weren’t hurt! Thank goodness. And Julia and Clare are all right?”