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Authors: Michelle McLean

Tags: #Historical romance/Scandalous/Victorian England/Missing treasure/Fake fiance’/Dangerous romance/Entangled/Reformed rake/Rags-to-riches heroine

To Trust a Thief (14 page)

BOOK: To Trust a Thief
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Chapter Twenty-three

Min paused outside her aunt’s closed office door and glanced back. Charlotte, poised at the end of the hallway, peeked around the corner, waving at Min behind her back. Min grabbed the doorknob and was in the office before she could release the shaky breath she’d been holding.

Once inside, she went straight for the huge mahogany desk that filled one end of the room. Lady Courtland kept two rings of keys that opened every door on the property. One ring for the manor house, one for the outbuildings. Min hoped she’d be able to figure out which she needed.

She went to the center drawer and tugged. Locked. Min sighed. She’d expected it to be locked, of course. But she’d hoped to get lucky.

Min knelt by the drawer and took a pin from her hair, blowing at the curls that fell in the process. “Okay,” she whispered, bending one of the tines back, “here goes nothing.”

She inserted it into the lock. Using a mystery novel as a locksmith’s manual wasn’t the most foolproof idea she’d ever had, but the description she’d read seemed plausible. According to the story, she needed to locate the pins inside the keyhole and apply enough pressure to move them out of the way. She fumbled around for a second, her hand less steady than it needed to be. She closed her eyes, got a good grip on the hair bob, and tried again.

The first one slid into place and Min moved the hairpin down to locate the next two. Once all three were in position, she bent the other end of the hairpin so she could insert it into the lock as well. The top tine nestled into the groove at the top of the keyhole, and the other jutted against the bottom. Min carefully turned the lock.

She had to slap a hand over her mouth to smother the sigh of relief that threatened to erupt at the soft
click
. She slid the drawer open. The rings of keys lay right in front. Min snatched the smaller one that held the larger, rustier keys. That had to be the one for the outside buildings. She hoped.

She flipped through the keys. They weren’t marked. Four of the keys were well used, dirty. The fifth looked almost brand new. Min took that one from the ring. She doubted the mausoleum was used much, so it stood to reason it was the right one. She could just take the entire ring, but with the term ending in two days, she knew her aunt would be putting everything in order and Min didn’t want her theft (
borrowing
, she corrected herself) discovered. She hoped one missing key would be less noticeable.

“Mr. Westley! How are you this afternoon?” Charlotte’s voice rang out just outside the office doors.

“Blast!” Min dropped the ring and thrust the drawer closed. The only exit to the room was the door Charlotte was defending. Or the window.

Min shoved the key down the front of her corset and ran to the window. It opened easily and Min blessed whoever kept the hinges well oiled. She hiked her skirts up, placed a booted foot on the sill, and launched herself out onto the front lawn.

She heard the door open and Charlotte’s shrill voice, accompanied by Bryant’s deep tones, but she didn’t stick around to hear what they were saying. Instead, she took off around the corner of the school as fast as her wobbly feet would carry her. She made it to the terrace off the music salon and paused long enough to gather her hair back into some semblance of order and secure it as best she could with her bent hairpins. Then she let herself in through one of the French doors. Ignoring the curious glances of her classmates, she slipped into a seat, just before Bryant blew into the room, followed by a very flustered Charlotte.

When she saw Min sitting there waiting for class to begin, Charlotte hurried over. Min gave her a strained smile and tried to breathe normally. Her mad dash from the front of the school had her lungs bursting from her chest and she knew her face was flushed. Min cursed the sadist who’d invented the corset. She wanted nothing more than to rip it off then and there so she could take a deep breath. Perhaps if she did, it would take Bryant’s mind off the near miss in the office. Not that he could prove she’d been in there.

She aimed a smile right at him.

“Miss Sinclair, I was under the impression that you were too ill to join us for class today.”

“I feel much better, Mr. Westley, thank you.”

He frowned, his hand tapping at his thigh. Min knew the effort it took him not to drag her out and interrogate her right then and there.

Instead, he asked Mrs. Potter to play a waltz. And asked Katherine to partner him. Min’s smile disappeared along with the exhilaration that had pulsed through her veins. But she straightened her back, pressed a hand to her chest to be sure the key was still nestled snugly in her corset, and began to waltz with Charlotte.

She only had to get through the day…and then she and Arthur could go claim their treasure.

Chapter Twenty-four

Arthur paced by the back of the mausoleum and Min hurried to meet him. When he caught sight of her, he rushed over.

“Did you get it?”

“I think so,” Min said, drawing the key from her pocket. “There were several on the ring, but this one looked the least used. I don’t suppose the family has much need to enter this old place.”

“Shall we?”

Min turned without a word, excited anxiety flowing through her in such waves that she had a hard time keeping herself steady. Arthur hovered over her as she slipped the key into the keyhole. She turned it, sighing with a surge of relief when the lock clicked.

Arthur pushed open the heavy iron door just enough for them to slip through. Once inside, he shut them in. Min repressed a shiver at the ominous sound of the door sealing them in with the dead.

Min took a long, deep breath, her nose wrinkling at the musty air. Arthur raised his lantern and they looked around. The walls to their left and right were patterned in a grid, each square serving either as the home for a dead Courtland ancestor or awaiting future occupants. Marble nameplates identified those tombs that were occupied. A row of granite coffins lay perpendicular to the back wall, the two in the middle resting beneath stained glass windows. It was hard to see the pattern on the windows in the dim light of the lantern, though Min thought it depicted Adam and Eve.

Min and Arthur moved quickly from name to name. But neither Edward nor Anne Benton was entombed in the walls. The right-hand wall was blank, with plenty of room for future Courtlands, save for one tomb. In the lower right corner, nearest the door, was a carved nameplate. Min read the name and shook her head.

Tabitha Ducleroy Courtland 1763–1821

“Oh,” Min said, feeling a wave of sadness for the poor woman. “It’s as though they just opened the door and shoved her into the first available slot.”

Arthur put his arm around Min’s shoulders, hugging her to him. The gesture was comforting, familiar. And probably not wise considering the circumstances. The last time she’d been alone with Arthur in the dark…

Min slipped from his embrace as smoothly as she could and went to the first sarcophagus. Arthur waited half a heartbeat before he followed and Min pretended she hadn’t heard his disappointed sigh.

She turned her attention to the issue at hand. “Arthur!” She clutched at his arm and pointed. He swung the lantern high over the nameplate on the marble coffin.

Edward Phillip Courtland 1788–1845

“The dates aren’t right,” Arthur said. “This is probably Edward’s son, your aunt’s late husband.”

They moved to the next one. Min’s heart pounded in her chest. They were so close, so close. She could feel it with every fiber of her being.

Edward Phillip Eustace Courtland 1750–1810

“This is it!” Min cried. She rushed between the two last coffins, laying a hand on each. One was definitely the Edward they were looking for. And the other…Min searched the last coffin. There was nothing. No name, no date. Just a beautiful pattern of vines and flowers etched around the border of the lid.

“But I was sure she’d be buried here,” Min said, her brows knit in confusion.

“I think she is. Look here.” Arthur pointed to the lines chiseled at the other end of Edward’s coffin lid. He read,

“It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:

Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,

To play the watchman ever for thy sake.”

Min snorted. “Bloody Shakespeare.”

Arthur’s eyes crinkled in confusion, but Min waved it off.

Arthur continued. “Don’t you see? He wants to be her watchman, always.”

Min turned back to the blank sarcophagus lid. “And where better for him to watch over her than here?”

Arthur nodded.

“Oh, and look.” Min crouched down so she could get a better look at the vines and flowers twining about the marble coffin. “Stars.” She pointed to the flowers, her grin growing wider as her enthusiasm returned. “Hoyas. These flowers are the same as those in Anne’s portrait. And on her locket. With these flowers being so much a part of Anne, it would have been logical for your grandfather to use the symbol as clues leading to the rest of the map.

“Star-shaped flowers. Stars that mark the secret room, the window-seat compartment, and the location of the mausoleum on the map. It’s perfect. No one would come looking for it here. Especially while Edward was alive. He’d have never allowed anyone near his beloved’s body. Arthur, your grandfather was a bloody genius.”

“Whoop!” Arthur jumped up and Min laughed as he reached out and gripped her in a bear hug.

“Well,” she said, playfully pushing him away and standing up. “There’s only one way to find out if Anne, or more importantly the necklace, is in there,” Min said, jerking a thumb in the coffin’s direction.

“Right.” Arthur grinned, placed the lantern on the floor, and levered his hands on the coffin’s lid. “Ready?”

Min joined him, planting her feet. “Ready.”

They shoved. And shoved some more. Nothing happened. The lid didn’t budge in the slightest.

“One more time?” Min asked.

“On three. One. Two. Three!” They shoved again, digging their feet into the floor. Arthur shook his head and straightened, dusting his hands on his pants. “We won’t be able to move it without help. We’ll have to come back with a crowbar or something. Another pair of hands or two would be ideal, but…”

Min was already shaking her head. “We’ve got one more night before I leave. We’ll come back tomorrow. With tools,” she said with a little laugh. She plopped onto the floor, the adrenaline rush seeping from her system, leaving her drained. It had been a long few months. And she was so close. She could hardly bear to walk away now. But tomorrow. Tomorrow they’d be back.

Arthur sat beside her and this time when he wrapped his arm around her, she leaned into him, accepting the comfort he offered. They sat for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Min,” Arthur said, his quiet voice breaking the silence. She turned to look up at him. Her heart froze at the expression on his face.

He stroked her cheek and leaned in.

“Arthur,” she whispered, pouring as much regret as she could into her voice. She pulled out of his arms.

“Damn it, Min!” Arthur jumped to his feet. “It’s because of
him
, isn’t it? Do you even know who this man is? Because he’s no dance instructor, I’ll guarantee you that. You know nothing about him, yet you are willing to throw your entire life away!”

“I’m not throwing my life away for anyone!” she said, her anger flashing to match his. “I agreed to share some information with him so we could all find the necklace a little faster. That is it! Yes, I had one stupid moment and I am more sorry than I will ever be able to say that you saw it. But my life is my own, Arthur, and no one is going to dictate to me how I should live it.”

She took a deep breath, tried to calm down. “What is happening with us, Arthur? This was supposed to be an arrangement to buy us both some time and make it easier to search for the necklace. Why did things have to get so complicated?”

Arthur gave a short, mirthless laugh. “That’s life, Min. You are so eager to go out there and live it on your own terms. But you aren’t alone in this life and when you are dealing with other people, with other people’s feelings…yes, things can get complicated.”

Min’s throat tightened. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

He reached out, taking her hand, giving her time to pull it away. She didn’t and he drew her to him with a sigh. “I know. You don’t need to apologize.” He gave her a quick hug and let her go.

He picked up the lantern and they walked to the door, slipping out into the night. Min relocked the heavy iron door and turned to say good night.

“Tomorrow at midnight?” she asked.

“Bring whatever tools you can find.”

“I will,” she said, returning his faint smile. “Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night.”

Min walked away from him, carefully picking her way through the cemetery. As she left, she could have sworn she heard him say, “I’m not going to give up on you.”

She hoped it was just her imagination.


Bryant heard Arthur’s quiet declaration and frowned. He hung back behind the mausoleum though it took all his self-control not to follow Min into the night. Or follow the doctor…for much more ominous reasons. But he had a job to finish. He waited until he was sure they had gone and then crept around to the big iron doors of the crypt.

Chapter Twenty-five

Min had managed to avoid Bryant since “the incident,” but she knew she couldn’t keep it up forever. It was decision time. If that necklace was in the crypt with Anne, as Min hoped and prayed it was, what was she going to do? She needed it. Arthur needed it. But so did Bryant. Maybe they could still come to a compromise. But she wasn’t holding her breath.

The next day was the end of term. She was out of time.

After their last dance class, during which Bryant again danced with Katherine, Min caught his eye. She kept her gaze locked on his as she ascended the stairs. He would follow.
Out of sheer morbid curiosity if nothing else
, Min thought with a grim smile.

She made sure no one was about before she slipped up to the picture gallery and into the secret room. Then she waited.

Not long after, she heard the door open. His pine and leather scent stirred things she’d rather keep buried. She knew he stood behind her, so close she could feel his breath on her neck, but she kept her back to him.

“You have something of mine.”

Min spun around, aware that she had no right to the anger flooding her but not caring. “Oh really? I was under the impression it was something we were to share.”

“Yes, because you have been so forthcoming with your own discoveries.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Min took an involuntary step back as Bryant grasped her arms, pulling her to him.

“You know exactly what I mean. Not that it matters anymore.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, and her control broke. She backed away, but she was up against the window seat. There was nowhere to go. She swallowed the panic that his words wrought in her and prayed his nonchalance was a show.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asked.

She tightened every muscle in her body to keep from squirming under his penetrating gaze. “I thought that’s the way you wanted it.”

“I never said that’s what I wanted. I said it would be best. Don’t confuse the two.”

She forced herself to meet his gaze and was glad she did. The smug, amused expression on his face was like a douse of cold water to her system. She would
not
let him see how he affected her.

And he seemed just as determined to prove she would.

She edged away from the window but he trapped her against the wall, a large hand on each side of her head.

“What are you doing?” she asked, happy her voice didn’t betray the turmoil inside. “You said you wanted to keep things professional.”

“Maybe I’m tired of being professional.”

He didn’t let her say anything else. His lips descended before she could form a coherent thought and she couldn’t think of anything but the feel of his mouth on hers.

When he finally released her, it took Min a few moments to collect herself into some semblance of composure.

“So,” he said, smoothing her hair from her face, “are you going to tell me what you were doing roaming the cemetery last night?”

All warm and fuzzy feelings evaporated, along with any thought of sharing what she’d found. She
knew
she couldn’t trust him! Min shoved at him and moved to the center of the room. She needed some space so she could swing at him if necessary. “You followed me? How dare you?”

Bryant leaned against the wall and crossed his arms with a lazy smile. “You are hardly one to throw stones, my dear Minuette.”

She opened her mouth to retort but snapped it closed just as quickly. He was right. Blast him. But he didn’t have to look so arrogant about it. Then again, if he had felt it necessary to follow her, then perhaps he didn’t have the complete map after all. Even if he had seen the back of Anne’s portrait, Min didn’t know for certain that he’d taken the locket and discovered what it held. And following her to the mausoleum didn’t guarantee he’d know what to look for once he got inside.

Min felt near faint with relief. “Well, at least I never tried to…to…
seduce
information out of you.”

His short bark of laughter inflamed her even more and she clenched her fist at her side. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Min felt the first prick of tears and she dug her nails into her palm, welcoming the flash of pain. “It doesn’t really matter what I think.”

“It matters to me,” he said, taking a step toward her. Min held out her hand. If he touched her again, her self-control would crack entirely.

“There isn’t anything to tell about last night.”

Bryant looked as though he begged to differ but Min held up her hand again to keep him from speaking. “Yet.”

He settled back against the wall, though he didn’t look the least bit happy with her answer.

“I didn’t find the necklace. Yet. That’s all I’m going to tell you. The term ends tomorrow. I’m supposed to be on my way to the train station first thing in the morning. And I’m sorry, but there is no way I’m going to give you all the information I have and then leave you to claim the necklace without me.”

“Still don’t trust me?” he asked, flashing that heartbreaking half smile of his.

Min gave him one in return. “No more than you trust me.”

They remained silent, staring at each other until Min thought her skin would crawl from her body. The room seemed too small, too close, the air too thin. She needed to get out of there.

She turned for the door, but Bryant got there before she did.

“Min.” He blocked the doorway, standing close enough that she could feel his warmth. He didn’t touch her. Min wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or not. But she resisted the urge to close the distance between them. She’d hear him out. And then she’d leave. And if she never saw him again, well, that was for the best.

“My life is not my own,” he said. “I need that necklace. For my family’s safety, for my freedom, I need it.”

“For my mother’s life, for the welfare of a man who trusts me, I need it, too. So where does that leave us?”

“I swear to you, your mother will be all right. No matter what happens. I know you don’t think you can trust me, but you can.” He finally moved, gripping her arms tightly.

“I’m sure you’ll understand that I can’t take your word for it.”

She expected him to get angry, to push her away. Instead, he drew her in closer. She allowed herself to sink into his embrace. Let his lips find hers. Just one last time.

“You won’t tell me?” he murmured.

“I can’t tell you.” Min found the echo of their last conversation on the matter almost amusing. Almost. She gently disengaged herself. “Good-bye, Bryant.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her inner wrist. “Never good-bye, Min.”

Her eyes filled as she opened the door and slipped out from behind the tapestry. She hurried to the staircase, wanting to put as much distance as possible between her and Bryant. Before she ran back, threw herself into his arms, and spilled all her secrets.

She reached for the banister. But instead of finding the smooth firmness of the wood, something hard thrust against her back and her hand met only air. Her gasp of horror died in her throat as she fell, too terrified to even scream. The stairs rose up to meet her and the world turned black.

BOOK: To Trust a Thief
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