To Trust a Thief (8 page)

She needed to find out more about the room. What was its purpose? More importantly, should she tell Bryant about it? The more time she spent with him, the less she wanted to keep from him. But giving away everything would be reckless and foolhardy.

And thinking about it was giving her a splitting headache.

Inside the room, Charlotte stood beside Min’s bed, pulling on a robe.

“There you are,” Charlotte whispered, sounding at once annoyed and relieved. “I was just going to look for you. Where have you been?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk in the gallery.”

“That creepy place?” Charlotte shuddered. “I can’t fathom how you can go there, Min, especially in the middle of the night.” Charlotte held a candle close to Min’s face. “What is on your face? Min! Are you bleeding?”

Confused, Min reached up to her cheek, starting in surprise at the trace of blood on her fingers.

“It is on your nightgown as well, just there, on the neckline,” Charlotte pointed out.

Min’s eyes flared in sudden understanding. It wasn’t her blood. It was Bryant’s. She shook her head. So he
had
been prowling in the attic. For a thief, he was awfully noisy. He must have knocked something over. Well, he couldn’t have been hurt badly; he had seemed perfectly healthy. Min’s heart kicked into a pleasantly painful dance, thinking about just how healthy Bryant had been behind the drapes.

She moved to the cupboard and pulled out a clean nightgown. “I must have cut my finger earlier and brushed my hand against my face. It’s nothing, really.”

Min pulled the clean gown over her head and threw the dusty, grime-and-blood-covered one into a heap by her bed. She could tell Charlotte wasn’t happy with her explanation, but she just wasn’t ready to share her secret. Yet. At least not that one. “You will never guess what I found!”

“What?” Charlotte asked.

The hallway outside their door creaked and Min shook her head, holding a finger to her lips. “It’s a secret. I’ll show you tomorrow,” she whispered, climbing back into bed.

Charlotte jumped into bed. “That’s not fair! Tell me now or I shall never get back to sleep.”

The door creaked open and both girls feigned sleep as Mistress Kellar poked her head inside. Once their door closed again, Charlotte whispered, “Min?”

“Shh.” Min smiled. “Tomorrow.”

…

Bryant watched Min walk away, his unease growing with every subtle sway of her hips. When she turned the corner and disappeared, he leaned back against the wall, sliding down till he sat on the floor. He propped his elbows on his raised knees and covered his face.

“What the hell are you doing, Bryant?” he groaned into his hands.

He didn’t need anyone to answer. He knew exactly what he was doing. Falling in love with an innocent young girl he was going to betray. The thought of hurting her in any way sent pain as sharp as shards of glass through his gut.

But what choice did he have?

“None,” he whispered. He leaned his head back against the wall and opened his fist. The silver locket gleamed in his hand. He closed his eyes. Waves of weariness rippled through him, but he didn’t have time to sleep. The sooner he found the necklace, the sooner he could get away from Min. Before they both got hurt.

Bryant stood and moved toward the attic’s stairs, shoving down any thought or emotion not involved with the necklace. He didn’t know what was going on in the house, but he was more convinced than ever that he wasn’t the only one searching the grounds. Whoever had been banging about in the attic had disappeared before he’d been able to find out who it had been, but he was grateful to the bumbling fool for drawing him to this part of the house.

He’d been vigilant in shadowing Min’s every move, though his own searches necessitated leaving her to her own devices every now and then. However, when he’d checked on her earlier that evening, she had appeared to be sound asleep in her bed. Quite fetchingly so, too, her features softly relaxed, her full lips slightly parted.

Bryant shook his head to clear the image and opened the door leading to the attic. He should have known the little minx had been feigning sleep until it was late enough to resume her own prowling. Luckily for him, she wasn’t very good at sneaking around. He wasn’t sure what she’d been doing or, rather, what she’d crashed into, but it had alerted him to her presence in the gallery.

He clutched the locket in his hands, unfamiliar guilt still coursing through him. Bryant was grateful their little interlude behind the drapes had afforded him the opportunity to see what was so important about this locket. But he found himself wishing over and over again that it wasn’t necessary to deceive her.

Ensuring the attic door shut silently behind him, Bryant hurried up the stairs and across the room. He lit the single candle on the table and opened the locket. He looked it over, examining every inch. The frayed corner of the eye portrait caught his eye. With expert fingers he pried it away from its nest and lifted the folded paper from its hiding place.

He took a sheet of paper and ink and within moments had made a copy of the map. Once done, he carefully put everything back together and slipped the locket into his vest. He studied the map for several minutes, but other than recognizing a building or two, and an area that looked like the Courtland family cemetery, he couldn’t make much of it. There was obviously another piece of the map that was needed to fully decipher it. That must be what Min was searching for.

And what he needed to find first.

Chapter Twelve

Min spent most of the next day trying to find an opportunity to show Charlotte what she’d discovered. They hadn’t a moment to themselves to sneak up to the secret room. As soon as the evening meal had finished, they headed straight for the stairs. Min reached inside her neckline, reassuring herself that the locket was still there. She’d woken that morning to find it beside her on her pillow and now she was in terror that it would come loose again.

“So,” Charlotte asked in an excited whisper, “where are we going?”

“Up to the gallery,” Min answered, already climbing the second staircase.

“The picture gallery? What’s up there?”

Min simply smiled and hurried on. When they reached the gallery, Min halted in front of the ancient tapestry that hung between the portraits of Tabitha and Edward Courtland. Charlotte glanced at the painting of Tabitha, who was shown dressed in an elaborate Turkish costume, a king’s ransom in jewels decorating her neck.

“Too bad the necklace was lost,” Charlotte said, nodding at the painting. “I bet it was a sight to see in person.”

Min nodded and then pointed at a painting directly across from Edward’s. “I think that is Edward’s mistress. See,” she said, drawing Charlotte over to look at it. A young blond woman sat at an easel, a basket overflowing with star-shaped hoya flowers on her canvas. An air of sadness surrounded her, something about the slightly downturned mouth, a tightness around her green eyes. A silver locket with a large center pearl hung from her neck.

“Min! That’s just like your locket.”

“I know. There’s no nameplate like the others have, but her style of dress is right for the time period and it was painted by the same artist who did Edward’s.” Min gestured to a scrawled signature at the bottom of the portrait. “And with the locket… She must be Anne Benton, Edward’s mistress.”

“Curious,” Charlotte said. She was about to say more but a loud creak from the floorboards above their heads made her jump. She grabbed Min’s arm. “Min!” she whispered. “What are we
doing
up here?”

“I found a secret room.” Min laughed while Charlotte stared at her in shock.

“I can’t believe you kept that from me all day!”

“Shhh.” Min pushed the heavy tapestry aside, grimacing at the rattle of the ancient iron rings that suspended it on the bar. She gestured for Charlotte to hold it out of the way. At first glance, the door wasn’t visible to either of the girls, so Min ran her hand along the wood paneling, pushing here and there, trying to find the hidden lever that would open it. Halfway down the wall, about waist level on the left, Min’s fingers discovered a small groove that had been carved into the paneling.

“What are you looking for?” Charlotte asked.

“A way in.”

“How did you get in last night?”

“I, ah, sort of stumbled upon it,” Min said, not meeting Charlotte’s eyes.

Charlotte’s laughter rippled through the empty corridor. “You mean you fell against the wall and went right through, don’t you?”

Min groaned.

“Oh, Min. Only you could literally fall into a secret chamber.”

Min ignored her. “Open those drapes a bit more, Charlotte. I think I’ve found something.” She gestured at the window across from the paintings, turning to hide the blush that crept up her face at the memory of the other discovery she’d made behind those drapes.

Charlotte complied and light from the window poured in. Someone had carved a small star in the paneling. The imperfection was nearly smooth and a bit lighter than the rest of the wood surrounding it. Whoever had carved it had done the work a very long time ago. The girls looked at each other and smiled in excitement. Min took a deep breath and pushed on the star.

The panel swung in to reveal the small room Min had stumbled into the night before. Charlotte gasped in astonishment. Min made certain the tapestry was back in place before she followed Charlotte inside. She closed the door behind her. When she turned around, Charlotte was already at the window gazing out.

“Look at this place,” Charlotte said, bouncing on the seat. “It looks as though no one has been in here for years!”

“Perhaps it was a meeting place for Edward Courtland and his mysterious lover.”

Charlotte laughed again. “I suppose. Hardly seems likely, though.”

“Why not?” Min looked around the room. “Why else would someone have a secret room full of comfortable furniture?”

“Well, you’ve got me there. Let’s see what’s under all these sheets,” Charlotte said, grabbing the nearest one and yanking. A small table with an inlaid marble chessboard was revealed.

“Nice,” Min said, grabbing a sheet of her own. Within seconds, all the furniture lay exposed. Min tossed the last sheet onto a pile in the corner.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” she said, gazing around the room. The small table sat near an elegant chaise lounge. An overstuffed chair was positioned on the other side of the table and a small empty bookcase leaned against the wall near the door. A rug in desperate need of cleaning covered the floor.

The girls squealed in delight for a moment, then collapsed laughing onto the cushion-covered window bench. A cloud of dust rose and Charlotte sneezed violently.

“This place certainly needs a good cleaning, that’s for sure.” She grabbed one of the sheets and scrubbed at the windowpanes.

Min nodded, rubbing her nose. “No help for it now, though. We’d better get going before we are missed.”

Charlotte nodded, dropped the sheet, and stood, pulling Min up with her. Her face puckered in a frown and she reached out to brush at Min’s dusty skirts. “Hmm. We might want to freshen up a bit before joining the others.”

Min took a few swipes at Charlotte’s clothing and laughed. “You might be right.” They dusted themselves off until there was no trace of where they had been.

With one last look around the room, Min pulled the door open and gestured for Charlotte to exit first. She went through and Min gave the door a yank, making sure it closed with a quiet
click
before she ventured out from behind the tapestry.

Charlotte stood stock still on the other side, her face pale and frozen.

“Charlotte, what’s the mat—?” Min’s voice trailed off as she saw at what, or rather whom, Charlotte stared.

Bryant stood framed in the window, his arms clasped behind his back. His eyebrows rose as Min emerged. “Good evening, ladies.” His eyes locked onto Min’s face, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good evening, Mr. Westley,” they murmured.

“I believe you are expected in the library for evening announcements.”

“Yes, Mr. Westley,” they muttered.

Min grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny and darted a glance at Charlotte, who was looking between the two of them with a small frown puckering her brows.

“I suggest you make your way downstairs before you are tardy.”

“Yes, sir,” Charlotte said. She grabbed Min’s hand and turned to leave, but Bryant stepped forward.

“One moment, Miss Sinclair. I’d like to have a word with you.”

Min froze, her pulse jumping. Charlotte hadn’t let go of her hand. Min gave her a small nod and Charlotte reluctantly released her. Min’s attention riveted back to the man towering over her.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Charlotte’s untrusting eyes glared at Bryant.

Bryant and Min stood in silence, eyes locked on each other, until Charlotte’s echoing footsteps faded away down the stairs. Then he stepped closer, leaving only a breath of air between them. Min looked up at him.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Are you going to tell me what’s behind the tapestry?”

Min jerked back. She swallowed, unsure if the tremors running up her spine were from being caught or from his breath stirring against her skin.

Part of her wanted to tell him. Wanted to help him. The same part that had made her cradle his injured hand. That wanted to kill his father for what he’d done to him. That wanted to help him ensure the safety and comfort of his family.

That hungered for his touch.

But another part of her wanted to ensure the safety and comfort of her own family, and of Arthur, just as desperately.

That part kept her silent.

She shook her head and stared right into his eyes. “There’s nothing behind the tapestry.”

Bryant stepped around her. He went to the tapestry and shoved it aside. Min held her breath while he inspected the wall, slowly releasing the tapestry when he found nothing. He turned back to her, hands on his hips.

Min clenched her fists in her skirts, refusing to squirm under his gaze. Finally, he stepped toward her. He trailed his thumb along her bottom lip, letting his palm cup her cheek for a moment before he moved away. He’d removed his gloves and Min’s head spun with the sensation of his skin against hers.

She turned toward where he leaned against the wall. And waited.

“I propose a truce,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

“A truce?”

“Yes.” He watched her for a second and then shook his head, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “Look, I’m running out of time here. We both know we are after the same thing. Perhaps we can help each other find it.”

“Assuming I know to what you are referring…what are you proposing?”

“I’m proposing,” he said, his slow smile sending bolts of heat flashing through her, “that we share.”

“We share?”

“We combine our resources. Split the results.”

Min stared at him. The necklace wasn’t solely hers to split. She owed Arthur. He needed it as much as she did. She had no right to trade away his share. However, her father was getting worse by the moment. She needed to know what Bryant knew, plain and simple. Besides, if she found it first…

Her gut twisted at the underhanded thought. But she owed her loyalty first and foremost to her family. And to Arthur. She’d figure the rest out if they ever found the blasted thing.

Bryant took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a searing kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Think about it,” he whispered.

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Min trembling and confused in the darkening corridor.