Page 28 of Gone With the Rogue
“Yes. Even under the chairs and side tables. There are no loose boards or nails that seem to be loose or raised.”
“What about the walls?”
“Every inch,” she answered desperately. “Behind the paintings, the sconces, the draperies, and even that tapestry.”
Mr. Stockton took no time surveying the layout of the room. The desk was at the back of the library in front of a wall of books. He shrugged out of his coat and laid it on a nearby chair. With light steps, he then strode confidently over to the desk and moved the unlit lamp, ink jar, and quill to the middle of the desk.
“I’ll move it forward one side at the time and then we’ll toss the rug back and see if we can find anything under it.”
“All right.” She walked over to stand beside him, and when he put his hands on the edge of the desk, she placed her hands beside his.
He looked down at her and smiled. “I can manage this without you, Lady Kitson.”
The warmth that shone in his eyes was like asoothing balm to her troubled soul. “I know, but I want to help.”
As if sensing how important it was that she be involved, he said, “One, two, three.”
They lifted the end of the massive desk and moved it forward three steps before setting it back down. Going over to the other side, they did the same.
Mr. Stockton then bent down on his hands and knees and felt around the fine wool. “The indentations the wood made in the rug are here.” He motioned to a spot in front of the desk. “If we push it back to here, we should be able to see all the floor that’s been covered. Bring the candle over while I move the rug.”
Julia did as he asked and then knelt down beside him. Her stomach quivered and her fingers trembled a little. “Do you want me to hold the candle while you search the floor?”
His face was mere inches from hers. They were as close as they’d been when they were in the tree. “I trust you to do it,” she whispered.
Mr. Stockton went to work and Julia watched. He was so close she heard his breaths, caught the scent of his shaving soap and the fresh washed smell of his hair. Through the linen of his shirt she saw the firm muscles in his back working as he bent over the floor. Holding the light close to him, Julia watched his strong, sure hands skim the seams and joints of the wood. Suddenly she was imagining the palm of his hand gliding over the plane of her hip, up to her waist, and gently caressing her breasts.
“Damnation,” he whispered after a few moments. “I think I’ve found something.”
For a moment Julia felt paralyzed, but then her breath leapt in her chest. “What?”
He moved farther into the alcove of the desk where the chair would sit when pushed tight again the desk.
Julia crawled to get closer to him, bumping his shoulder with hers, letting her thigh rest against his. “Let me see.”
“Give me the candle,” he said.
She gave him the round brass holder with a shaking hand.
He took the light in one hand and with the other showed her where to touch. “Start here and follow my hand up to this point and back to here. Do you feel that?”
“The seam of the wood is raised,” she said, beginning to believe they might have found something. “How do we get the boards out so we can see if anything is inside?
He handed the candle back to her. Reaching behind him, he pulled his knife from his boot. He started knocking the blade into the seam with the hilt of his hand. The noise reverberated around the room. Julia felt as if a gong was sounding throughout the house. Her heart jumped to her throat.
“Wait. It’s so loud I’m afraid it will awaken the housekeeper or Mr. Leeds. I don’t know if they are sound sleepers.”
Garrett stopped and laid the knife down between them. He reached over and cupped her cheek with his warm hands. His touch was soothing. She wanted to melt against him and let him take this fear and burden from her.
“I’ll make as little noise as possible. It’s your choice, but I can’t break this open silently. There must be a little sound if you want to know what’s hidden beneath the boards.”
Julia didn’t know what to do. It was torture to be so close to possibly finding the evidence she needed, but the noise to get it was terrifying. What good would it do her to find the papers if the housekeeper found her? Mr. Stockton stayed calm. His hand was steady, comforting against her skin. He didn’t rush her to make a decision. It was as if he knew she had to be sure what they were doing was worth the risk they were taking. He was right. There was no way to remove a board silently.
She really had no choice. “All right,” she said. “Do what you must. I’ll leave the candle here with you and go to the door to listen for footsteps from above.”
“It’s not as loud as you think it is.” He gave her a gentle, brief kiss on her lips and then another just as short on the side of her mouth. The contact was startling but calming. Her breaths slowed.
“Everything will be fine. I’ll be as quiet as possible.” He kissed her forehead. “Now go listen from the door.”
