Page 51 of To Heist and to Hold

Heloise’s trembling fingers skimmed over the wood-paneled walls of the stairwell as they reached the landing, eyes uselessly wide in the pitch black, breath overloud and ragged in her ears.

Iris, in control of herself now that the chaos and noise were behind them, gripped tight to her gown, following close behind her.

Thank God. Heloise’s focus had to be solely on locating Copper before it was too late.

How had they missed proof of his complicity?

Every inch of Dionysus, Copper’s office included, had been gone over.

And yet nothing had been found? A frustrated curse knocked at her lips, but she swallowed it back.

It didn’t much matter how they had missed it.

The important thing now was learning what he had done with those damn jewels and stopping him from doing to anyone else what he had done to Julia.

Finally she found the now-familiar handle on the door to that secret hallway where she knew Copper’s office to be.

Letting out a shaky breath, she carefully pushed the panel inward.

As before, it did not betray so much as a whisper of a creak as it gave way.

And there, at the far end, was the faintest sliver of light.

Copper.

Iris made a small noise in the back of her throat at the sight. Heloise reached back, squeezing her hand in silent warning before tugging her forward down the hall. Copper’s office door stood ajar several inches, and they crept to it on silent feet, easing up to the crack to peer within.

A small lamp burned, illuminating the room in a faint glow, and the scene that was revealed had Heloise’s jaw dropping nearly to her chest: Mr. Copper, face stark in the dancing shadows, peering down into a hidden space beneath the raised top of his desk.

She shook her head, rubbed at her eyes. The fitful light must be playing with her vision.

Yet when she looked again, the scene was the same.

The entire top of the desk was raised as if it were a lid on a box, and Mr. Copper was rifling through the contents of the cavity beneath.

To deposit his most recent ill-gotten goods, no doubt.

Heloise pressed her lips tight as fury simmered in her veins.

He had cheated Julia, stolen from her, not only Lady Ayersley’s jewels but her life as well.

God knew how many other people he had done the same to.

Iris moved forward, bending low beneath Heloise, peering through the crack.

She sucked in a breath of surprise, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

But it was too late. Mr. Copper’s head shot up at the whisper of sound, dark eyes—made darker still in the harsh shadows—narrowing as he looked toward the door.

Heloise wasted no time, grabbing Iris’s arm, hauling her down the hall and around the corner.

There they stood, backs pressed to the wall, waiting, listening.

The faintest sound of footsteps and the door being pushed open reached them.

Was he listening for them as well, fearful he had been found out?

That could make him very dangerous indeed.

They waited, hardly breathing, for what felt an eternity.

Finally there was the sound of shuffling, of wood meeting wood, and the glow of his lantern illuminated the wall opposite them.

Would he come this way? Heloise bit her lip hard even as she felt along her collar, finding and gripping tight to the small blade hidden there.

The echo of the door closing reached them then, the scrape of metal and a lock clicking into place, loud in the tense silence.

Soon footsteps sounded, not approaching but receding, muffled by the plush runner that ran the length of the hall.

Finally they quieted altogether, the meager light from the lamp going with them.

Had he gone back to the casino floor? She closed her eyes and breathed deep, counting the seconds, needing to be certain.

When a full minute had passed and there was no indication of him returning, she peered around the corner.

Not even a hint of light showed, the darkness pressing on her eyes.

He was gone, then. Thank the heavens. Turning back to Iris, she whispered, “Have you got the lamp?”

Iris didn’t hesitate, the rustling of fabric telling Heloise the other woman was searching her pockets for the necessary items. In the next moment a small tin box was pressed into Heloise’s hands.

She went to work immediately, each movement practiced so many times at Sylvia’s insistence that she did not need her vision to do it.

Releasing the latch, she pried the two halves of the box open, folding out the third, glass-fronted panel before taking the small candle within and securing it in place.

Just as she finished, a spark lit the close space, the char cloth in the tinderbox Iris held catching fire.

Wasting no time, Iris set the sulfur-tipped match to the char cloth, waiting for the flare of it catching before, fingers shaking, she set the small flame to the candle.

A soft glow lit the hallway, and Heloise held the pocket lantern aloft, a breath of relief escaping her lips. As one they moved around the corner and to Copper’s now-closed office door.

Iris wasted no time, reaching into her bodice, pulling the long lock-picking tools from the boning channels of her corset, inserting them into the lock.

Before Heloise could blink, the faint click of the pins falling into place sounded.

Iris opened the door and they slipped within, Heloise daring to breathe only when the door closed silently behind them.

“It is ingenious, that’s for certain,” Iris murmured, moving into the room and around the desk. “Now, if I can only locate the lock.”

Heloise followed, watching her carefully for any further nervousness.

But no, this was where Iris was in her element.

Her eyes fairly glowed with excitement now as she took the lantern from Heloise and bent low, moving quickly and methodically, running the sensitive pads of her fingers over the gleaming mahogany.

The seconds ticked by, each one excruciating.

The sounds from below were barely discernible, the faint echo of raised voices a chilling accompaniment to the pounding of her heart in her ears.

Then triumph as a small, satisfied squeal came from Iris.

“I found it,” she whispered, leaning in closer to study the mechanism.

She gave the small lamp to Heloise, her hand back at her bodice, more tools appearing as if by magic.

With a frown of concentration, she bent and worked at the lock, head tilted to the side, listening intently.

Soon there was that soft click again, accompanied by a hiss of pleasure from Iris.

And then she was lifting the top of the desk, revealing the hidden compartment beneath.

“Oh,” Heloise breathed as the small light of the lamp illuminated the contents within. Banknotes and coins and papers of every kind filled the space, as well as the small bundle Copper had brought here to conceal. And there, half peeking from beneath a narrow box, was the glint of rubies.

The jewels.

“We’ve found them,” she managed around a throat suddenly tight with tears. “Thank God, we’ve found them.”

But as she reached for them, desperate to get her hands on the pieces and finally—finally!—claim the means to save Julia, the door swung wide to reveal Mr. Copper—and the telltale glint of a gun in his hand. A gun that was pointed right at her.

Ethan heard them before he reached them, tense, unintelligible voices echoing through the dark hallway, Copper’s rough cadence and Heloise’s strong tones bouncing off one another.

He broke into a run, heading for the golden glow at the end of the hall, fury like fire in his veins.

What he saw as he turned into the room, however, was enough to transform that fire into ice: Copper, looking wild in his fear and anger, the gun in his hand pointed at Heloise.

“Heloise,” he choked.

Copper’s eyes fairly rolled in his head as he swung them to Ethan. “Damn it, Sinclaire, you should be below.”

Though a voice screamed in his head to tackle the other man and tear the weapon from his grip, he fought for composure.

One wrong move and a bullet could lodge in Heloise’s chest. A brief flash of her, lying motionless at his feet, crimson blossoming on her bodice, had him nearly casting up his accounts.

“Why don’t you give me the gun?” he said as calmly as he could manage. Moving slowly, he reached out.

“No,” Copper hissed, backing away, stumbling against the wall. His hand shook violently, the gun wobbling dangerously—and still aimed at Heloise.

Given Copper’s volatile state, this could all turn tragic in an instant. Fear pounded through his veins, that damn vision of Heloise lying lifeless coming back to torture him. If he lost her…

Panic flared and his gaze flashed to her, as if to prove to himself that she was well.

She stood straight and tall in the light of a small lamp, one hand resting near the collar of her gown.

Mrs. Rumford’s pale, frightened face peeked out from behind her.

Before them was Copper’s desk, the entire top propped open in an odd manner.

But he hardly noticed all of that, his entire focus on the trust in Heloise’s eyes.

It bolstered him, giving him strength he hadn’t known he needed.

“You are well?” he asked, desperation making the words harsh.

A small, tremulous smile ever so briefly crossed her lips. “Yes, we’re well.”

“Good,” he breathed before turning his gaze back to Copper. “Why don’t we let the ladies go? They’ve nothing to do with any of this.”