Page 17

“Those secrets you’ve hinted at should have at least made you a spy,” Caroline said as she settled into a comfortable leather winged back chair.

“Ha.” The rich, deep rumble of Felix’s chuckle tickled through her chest. “I thought about it before I left the military for good, and then thought about it again midway through my career at Bow Street. England was in a state and corruption abounds at the top levels of government.” He perched on one of the armrests of her chair, so close that the warmth of him seeped into her arm and shoulder, enough to make her a tiny bit breathless and compete with the warmth on her other side coming in from the sunlight through one of the windows.

“Hell, I even had many conversations with one of my best friends who I worked with—Gabriel Bright. He’s the most just and fair man I know.

Late nights were spent at a tavern, weighing all options. ”

“You’ve mentioned him twice now. He must have made an impression on you. ”

“He has.” Felix nodded. “The inspector was one of the men who had the training of me, but we have much in common, and we’ve remained in touch now that we’re both away from Bow Street.”

How interesting. “Where is he now?”

“Oh, still in London. He consults, but most of the time, he’s privately hired to solve cases for people who wish their affairs to remain just that.”

“Ah.” One of her favorite things was talking candidly with this man, where he treated her with respect and a sense that was what simmering between them would ignite at any time.

“Yet you eventually decided against becoming a spy? Why?” It was enjoyable when this fascinating person opened up about his personal life.

“I eventually decided I could do more good here in England. Ousting criminals from the streets of London and the surrounding areas. Helping those who needed answers and justice but didn’t know where else to turn.”

“Yet you hide that soul of service behind the facade of being grouchy. Why?”

A hint of ruddy color appeared over his cravat. “It keeps people at arm’s length.”

She turned her head and looked up to meet his gaze. “People or women?” His heart must have been truly bruised if that were true.

“Does it matter?” As he spoke, he slowly leaned down.

“I suppose not, but you run the risk of growing lonely and even more crotchety if you never trust anyone enough to let them in.” With each word, her lips nearly brushed his.

His scent teased her nose, made her want to do terribly wicked things to him even if she was an innocent and had no idea how to even begin.

“I could say the same of you, Miss Ives.” This time their lips did brush, and it was every bit as electric as she’d thought. “Except you leave out the grouchiness only to replace it with sunshine. The loneliness is the same, I’ll wager.”

Before she could respond, the tinkling crash of window glass filled the room. A large brick came sailing in, and even though she and Felix sprang apart, the missile managed to graze her arm before landing with a dull thud on the Aubusson carpet.

An involuntary cry was yanked from her throat, not so much from the pain but from the shock of it.

“Shit!” the major exclaimed as he ran awkwardly to the window amidst the pieces of shattered glass. “Stay here.” Then, leaving his cane behind, he climbed through and apparently decided to give pursuit to whomever had thrown the brick.

Once she snapped out of her surprised stupor, Caroline moved to the brick. There was a folded scrap of paper tied to it with a bit of twine. She removed it, and when she opened the paper, she gasped, for it was a direct threat.

Stop investigating or else you will be next.

“Oh, dear heavens.” Tucking the scrap into her bodice, and not thinking of the consequences, she gathered her skirting in her hands, climbed out of the window, and then ran after the major, who had a decent lead ahead of her as he ran toward the back of the manor in the direction of the terrace.

What was more, he chased a person of average size, dressed in black and wearing a black cloak that billowed out behind them.

“Felix!” The pounding of her heart kept pace with her footsteps as she pelted after him.

Eventually she caught him up, for he couldn’t run that fast with the limp.

Also, she assumed the prosthetic didn’t lend itself to navigating different terrains with any sort of speed; the foot probably didn’t move like a real appendage. “Is he our killer?”

“No idea.” He frowned at her but didn’t stop moving. “I told you to stay put.”

“I’m not a dog to follow commands. Additionally, I didn’t want you going headlong into danger alone.” It was far too difficult to run and converse at the same time. And breathing deep with the stays quickly became a chore.

A few shouts came from the direction of the various crafting groups on the terrace and gardens where the dark-cloaked person darted through. She and Felix continued to give chase while ignoring everyone’s disgruntled annoyance.

“Who is it?” she managed to gasp out as the man ducked into the ballroom.

“I don’t know. He’s wearing a domino mask along with the cloak’s hood.” Pain lay etched over his face, a testament to how painful the false leg must be.

Eventually, they dashed into the corridor that would lead to the orangery, but the black-clad person veered into one of the small, unused rooms.

“Quickly! We can corner him,” the major barked out. Seconds later, he entered the room with Caroline on his heels.

Because the room was windowless, it was completely dark inside the space.

In fact, the inkiness was so complete she could almost feel it, and even though she was more than familiar with the manor house, the darkness disoriented her…

and frightened her. The creeping feeling that something crawled over her skin couldn’t be ignored.

“This was intended to be a study or an office of sorts for my father’s man-of-affairs whenever he visited.

Since it’s such a small, enclosed space, it’s much too hot in the summer and far too cold in the winter, and too far away from my father’s study.

” She struggled to pull air into her lungs, for being in such places made her feel trapped.

“Conversation proved difficult between them, so my father abandoned the idea. This room is kept closed and used for storage. Rarely does anyone come in.”

“How convenient for a criminal.”

She couldn’t discern movement from the shadows as a clammy coolness fell over her. Something niggled in her brain. “This door is always kept locked, though…”

Perhaps she’d tempted fate; perhaps it was merely coincidence, but furtive movement slipped past her. Seconds later, the door slammed closed. The sound of the lock clicking was ominous in the heavy silence.

“Dear God, we’ve been locked in.” And her chest felt as if it was tightening, intent to squeeze out every last drop of air in her lungs.

“Who has keys to this room?” The annoyance in his voice was even more intense in the darkness.

“Uh…” It was difficult to concentrate when hot panic welled. “The housekeeper, Mrs. Flinders, and perhaps the butler, but he doesn’t carry them on his person. He keeps them in his office. And…” She gasped, either from the realization or the fear, she couldn’t say. “And my mother.”

“Damn. We’ll have to interview her.”

“My father is going to come the crab.” She wandered through the room, tripped over a small, cushioned footstool to land on one of the low sofas that had been covered with a dust sheet. “Oomph!” There were no candles lit, no windows, and no killer in the room.

Only heavy disappointment.

“How the devil did the man get past us?” The sound of the major’s uneven footsteps echoed in the sudden silence. “For that matter, who was he?”

“Was it indeed a ‘he,’ then?” Sweat broke out on her upper lip and on her back, pasting her thin chemise to her skin.

“I don’t know. They wore a damned mask. That means the attack was pre-meditated.”

“That isn’t good.” Her breath came in short pants. “There is no escape from this room until someone unlocks this door.” Then she sneezed when her nose tickled from the dust.

“What’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice.” The command in his tone was unmistakable.

“I, uh, suffer from fear and anxiety brought on by small, enclosed spaces. A mental disturbance, I’ve always been told.” Would she go mad, then? Try to claw her way out of the room?

“Ah. I had a friend in the military who suffered from that, so you have my sympathies.”

“Thank you.” Breathing was difficult. “My mother tells me to merely strengthen my spine and overcome it, but I fail each time.” She blew out a breath.

“There is no chance at rescue because luncheon today is scheduled for a nearby wildflower meadow for a picnic.” Panic grew in her chest. “Most of the staff are probably already out there, hauling china, silverware, and stemware while guests will dine on blankets.”

“Until teatime, which is being held in the orangery next door, correct?”

“Yes.” She nodded, even though he wouldn’t be able to see the gesture in the darkness. “I must get out of here.” When she sprang from the sofa, she nearly crashed into his form as he came near.

“Calm yourself, Caroline.” The deep rumble of his voice gave her a modicum of soothing, but it also lit tiny fires in her blood. “How is your arm?”

“It’s fine.”

He grunted. “You should lie down.”

“Stop.” She batted away his hands. “It is naught but a graze. A bit of blood that will scab over soon enough.”

“Sit.” Gently but firmly, he pushed her down onto the sofa. “Stay here. I’m going to look for a way out.”

Caroline snorted. “Good luck. I’ve lived here my whole life. I know the room is sound.” Then she gave in to a shiver, for they were still trapped. A sneeze quickly followed.

This is so embarrassing.

The last thing she’d wanted was to reveal her weakness in front of the major so soon after meeting him. What must he think of her; the darkness was so dratted disorienting!