To Trust a Thief Page 8

  The door.

  It had been closed when she went to bed, she was sure of it. It stood open now. Not much, but enough. As she watched, someone, or something, slowly pushed it closed. She drew in a strangled breath and ducked under the covers, the blood in her ears pounding.

  She huddled there for several moments. Who had been in her room? Why? The servants swore the place was haunted. Were they right? Min didn’t believe in ghosts. However, she was willing to concede it was easier to dismiss them in the light of day.

  There had to be some reasonable explanation. There was always a reasonable explanation. Well…almost always.

  Berating herself for her childishness, Min dropped the blankets from her head and breathed slowly in and out until her racing heart had calmed. It was probably just one of the teachers doing a nightly check. She glanced around. Charlotte slept, oblivious to the disturbance.

  Frustrated, Min flipped the covers away and shoved her feet into her slippers. She held still for a moment, but no new sounds drifted to her. She snorted, feeling ridiculous. It was an ancient house, after all; a few creaks, groans, and unexpected drafts were perfectly natural. And here she was making a ninny of herself.

  Silly or not, the fright had gotten her blood pumping. She was wide awake. Well, since she was so alert, she figured she might as well make the most of it. Time for a bit of exploring. It had been days since she’d been able to look around. Mr. Westley always seemed to crop up whenever she’d tried to slip away.

  Throwing her robe over her thin nightdress, she slipped into the hall and wandered toward the stairs. Though she had no intended destination, her footsteps carried her to the picture gallery. Many of the girls considered it menacing. While Min paid no mind to the girls’ superstitious banter, she had to admit the paintings had an unnerving way of looking as though they were watching her, particularly in the candlelight.

  She walked through the corridor, absentmindedly plucking at a ribbon that came loose under her anxious fingers and fell from her gown. She leaned over to retrieve it, reaching back to use the wall for support.

  She misjudged the distance in the near darkness and found only air. Without the slightest degree of grace, her bottom collided with the tapestry that hung from the wall. Instead of breaking her fall, the wall itself moved backward. Min fell into the empty space behind the tapestry with a muffled screech.

  “Oh, that was graceful, Minuette.” She sat up and brushed herself off, muttering an angry reproach while she looked around. She breathed a small sigh of relief that she had somehow managed to hold onto her candle in her fall. Pale moonlight filtered through a window in the opposite wall of a small room.

  The entrance must have been hidden from view by the tapestry that now fluttered over the open doorway. Based on what she saw in the meager light, no one had been in this room for years. She peered into the inky darkness, holding her candle high to light the space as much as possible. Misshapen white objects seemed to hover just out of reach of the soft glow. Creaks echoed from the ceiling and Min froze. “It’s just the boards settling,” Min assured herself. After several moments of quiet she moved farther into the room, letting the dim light fall on what appeared to be eerie sheet-covered furniture.

  The space smelled of abandonment, musty and stale. A narrow window stretched from the floor almost to the ceiling. Min knelt on the small cushioned bench built into the recess of the window and pulled the heavy drapes away for a better view. She sneezed at the sudden puff of dust. With the hem of her nightgown, she cleaned a small circle of grime from one of the panes and revealed a breathtaking view of the lake.

  Min smiled, thrilled at her discovery. “What is this place?” she whispered, looking around the room once again. A priest’s hole, leftover from Cromwell’s days? Or perhaps it was the hidden refuge of Edward Courtland and his mistress.

  Her heart jumped with a jolt of adrenaline. A lover’s retreat. And perhaps the perfect place to hide a portrait of one’s lover. Or the necklace itself.

  More low creaking from the attic rooms above filtered down. Min held her breath. Her eyes wide, she searched the ceiling as though she could see through it if she tried hard enough. The floorboards above her head creaked again. A stream of ice ran through her blood when a faint whomp rumbled across the ceiling.

  Min’s heart thumped in painful lurches. She tried to calm down. It was probably just a really big mouse. Or one of the cats? Perhaps the old place really was haunted.

  She jumped as a muffled thud reverberated across the rafters. The faint sound of breaking glass had Min running for the exit.

  There was no visible handle on the outside so Min grabbed the edge of the door and pulled it closed behind her. She was careful to straighten the tapestry that hid the entrance. Backing away, she made sure there was no evidence of the room.

  Footsteps.

  Min froze in alarm.

  Nearer…nearer…

  If Min was honest with herself, she might admit that all the tales of ghostly lights and noises did have her a little spooked. But it certainly wasn’t the time for being honest.

  Min held her breath as the footsteps came nearer. She blew out her candle and pressed herself into the wall near the window across from the tapestry-covered alcove, half burying herself in the curtains.

  The footsteps grew louder and stronger until at last they stopped a few feet from where she hid. An invisible hand reached out and yanked the draperies aside, letting the strong moonlight spill into the corridor. Min could make out the large, dark shadow of a man. She tried to keep silent. Her breath came faster, her heart beating in desperate time to her panic.

  The shadow lunged.

  Min opened her mouth to scream, but the pressure of a very large hand cut off the sound.

  Her head swam with the terror clawing its way through her body. She kicked and twisted as the shadow wrapped its arms around her. “Miss Sinclair! Stop!”

  One of Min’s elbows connected to a muscled abdomen.

  “Oof!” Whoever it was dropped his hand from her mouth and leaned against her, pressing her into the wall as he struggled for breath. The scent of pine and leather floated to her as she gulped large breaths of air and Min stopped struggling.

  “Mr. Westley?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” He exhaled deeply. “What were you trying to do, kill me?”

  “Actually, yes. You frightened me half to death!”

  “What are you doing wandering the halls in the middle of the night?”

  “I could ask the same of you,” she said, her lingering fear making her bold.

  Mr. Westley straightened and looked down at her. “I am an instructor here, Miss Sinclair. It is one of my duties to make sure my charges are safely tucked in their beds after curfew. What I choose to do after hours is my own business.” His eyes narrowed into dark slits. “Have I made myself clear?”

  Min swallowed hard against the arguments piling up in her throat. Mr. Westley’s furious expression left no room for response, playful or otherwise. Any camaraderie he may have felt in the greenhouse was gone. She didn’t know this man at all. She felt like a stupid little girl being chastised for breaking the rules. And she realized that was most likely exactly how Mr. Westley saw her. She felt so foolish.

  Min stiffened, tilting her chin in the air. “Perfectly clear, Mr. Westley. It won’t happen again.” Min tried to move around him but he didn’t budge.

  “Minuette.” He leaned into the wall beside her, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  She froze. Her name on his lips felt more intimate than his bare skin brushing against hers. The defeated tone of his voice tore at her very soul.

  Mr. Westley sighed. Heat emanated from every inch of his body, from where his forehead rested so near to hers down to where his large, muscular leg pressed against her. The fact that she was clad in her nightclothes hadn’t escaped her attention, either. She wondered if it had escaped his…

  “I’m sorry, Min…Miss Sinclair.” He took a deep breat
h and straightened, not moving away but no longer using the wall for support. “I don’t like being questioned.” His voice hardened a bit. “Nor do I enjoy being spied upon by young ladies with overactive imaginations.”

  “I was not spying on you,” Min said, trying to keep her voice down while her emotions raged unchecked. She glared at him for a moment longer but finally decided to let it drop or they’d be there all night disagreeing. Neither one of them relaxed their stances, though. The tension between them didn’t lessen. If anything, it intensified.

  Mr. Westley’s eyes raked over her, consuming every inch. Min shifted, her pulse jumping like she was prey being stalked in the night.

  “Mr. Westley…”

  “Call me Bryant.”

  “What?” she asked, surprise stealing the last of her anger.

  Bryant moved against her and Min’s shock melted into something much more dangerous.

  “My name is Bryant,” he whispered into her ear. “Say my name, Min.”

  Min shivered as his hot breath caressed her skin. “I couldn’t.”

  “Yes, you can. There is no one to hear you but me.”

  “But it isn’t—”

  “You’ll whisper with me behind the curtains in the middle of the night, unclad, hair unbound, but you can’t utter one, harmless little word?”

  “Hardly harmless.”

  “Stop thinking so hard.”

  He was right, she supposed. She’d said his name to herself so many times. Whispered it in her dreams. How would it feel to utter it out loud?

  What harm is in a name? “Bryant,” she breathed, hardly daring to say it aloud.

  Bryant leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. Min tensed. Apparently she’d misjudged the power of one little word. She knew she should run. But she wasn’t sure she could.

  Or wanted to.

  He kissed her again, lower, between her eyes, the tip of her nose. Min clenched her fists, willing her body not to betray her by trembling. She should push him away, but she wanted only to pull him closer. She did neither.

  Bryant hovered over her mouth, his breath teasing her lips. He turned his head away, jaw clenched. Min’s heart beat once, twice, while he warred with himself.

  He turned back to her and Min lifted her lips to meet his.

  They both froze at the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hall.

  “Damn,” Bryant muttered, pulling away from her and ducking behind the drapes just as the eerie glow of candlelight floated toward them. Min stood against the wall, her robe open and her hair in disarray, fighting to control her rapid breathing. She jumped as Katherine became visible in the soft circle of light.

  “Minuette?” Katherine raised an eyebrow as she took in Min’s strange appearance. “Whatever are you doing cowering in a dark hallway in the middle of the night?”

  “I am not cowering; I simply didn’t wish to frighten you by suddenly appearing. I dropped my candlestick and was a bit lost in the dark.”

  Katherine snorted derisively but held out her candle so Min could relight hers.

  Min begrudgingly thanked her. “What are you doing up here?”

  Katherine’s face puckered into a grimace. “I fail to see how that is any of your concern. And I could ask you the same question.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d walk a bit.” Min fought to keep her eyes from darting to the drapes. If Katherine were to discover Mr. Westley hidden in their depths… Min shuddered at the consequences.

  Katherine stared at her, obviously not believing her answer.

  Min lifted her chin a notch higher. “This is my home, you know. I have every right to go wherever I please in it.”

  She breathed a quick sigh of relief when Katherine turned with a muttered, “Suit yourself,” and started down the hallway. When Min failed to follow, she turned around. “Aren’t you coming?”

  She should go. She should thank her lucky stars Katherine had come along and she should toddle off to her room like a good little lady. Yet… “I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Katherine shrugged and continued along her way. Min waited a few moments before she placed her candle on the ground and ducked behind the curtain.

  She fell against Bryant, shivering when he wrapped his arms around her. Min tentatively raised her arms to drape them around his neck but Bryant grabbed her hands, holding them still against his chest. His heart pounded against her fingers. He released her with a slight growl, gently pushing her away.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Sinclair… Min. I…” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I apologize for my behavior.”

  A thousand responses flew through Min’s mind. She finally decided to simply tell him the truth. “I’m not sorry, Bryant.”

  He looked at her a moment before a slow smile spread across his lips. He reached out and trailed his thumb along her jaw. “This isn’t wise, Min.”

  She leaned into his hand. “I know.”

  He drew her in again, leaned his forehead against hers. Min breathed him in. Reveled when he shuddered.

  “Go now,” he rasped, straightening up, “before we…before we run into anyone else prowling the halls in the dark.”

  His hands cupped her face, trailing down to linger at her neck. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across the pulse jumping at the base of her throat. Min’s heart thumped in an overwhelming rush. He pulled away, fists clenched. “Go. While I still have the strength to send you away.”

  A storm of elation and anxiety flooded through Min so quickly she could do no more than nod. She poked her head out from behind the drapes and scanned the corridor. Empty. She emerged and grabbed her candle, then sped quietly toward her room, sighing in relief when she encountered no one else.

  She didn’t recall the secret room until she’d reached the safety of her bedroom. She frowned, unhappy at Bryant’s ability to wipe what was really important from her mind. He was proving to be too much of a distraction.

  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.