“No ledger,” she mumbled to herself. Every man she knew with a study kept a ledger. A place to track expenditures and receipts. She could still remember her father tallying up the book every Monday night. Teaching her the majesty of double entry bookkeeping.
But nothing, no ledger. Did Lord Hicks have one, or was it located somewhere else in the house? Her insides threatened her. The pressure was intense. She must find it, soon. Every second meant a greater chance of discovery.
Where? She wondered as she looked up at all the books on the shelf. No, that didn’t make sense. Then she remembered something her father had done one time. When she was a little girl. Her father had helped her write a note for her mother. A birthday letter. She remembered how proud she had been and how afraid she was that her mother would discover it before her birthday.
Her father had pulled out a drawer and showed her how to hide it along the side.
“She’ll never discover it there,” her father had told her.
Quickly bending down, Amanda pulled out the drawers again to search along the side.
Nothing.
Her heart fell. She couldn’t give up, not yet.
Then, thinking perhaps Lord Hicks was more concerned about his paper that her father had been about her birthday card. She felt underneath each drawer.
There, on the third attempt, she felt a smooth piece of leather.
Pulling the drawer out, she rested the end on the desk as she looked underneath. And gasped. A slim piece of leather had been tacked to the bottom of the drawer. And inside the leather pouch, a piece of paper folded lengthways.
Glancing up at the door to make sure she wasn’t going to be discovered, Amanda gently removed the piece of paper.
Her heart jumped when she recognized what it was. A list of initials, a list of corresponding payments. At least that was what they appeared to be to her. Figures in the several hundred-pound range. Written in a formal, male hand.
Her heart jumped into a higher speed. Was this it? Was this what Warwick was looking for?
A noise outside the study made her heart crash. A slight bump. It could mean anything, she told herself as she froze and waited. If they found her now, like this. There would be no way to lie her way out of it. They would know what she was doing.
Would they hurt her? She was a woman. Surely, a British aristocrat wouldn’t hurt her. But then she thought of that dead man and Warwick getting shot. And what would happen to Lord Hicks if he was found out? It would be a noose for sure. Or worse, the chopping block.
Yes, he would kill her without a second thought. The realization sent a cold shiver through her entire body.
Hurriedly, she put the piece of paper back into its pouch. If she took it, Lord Hicks would know she had been there. He would know he had been discovered.
Another footstep in the hall made her insides quiver. Leaning over, she blew out the lamp. Perhaps she could escape in the dark. Holding her breath she waited.
And waited, until she realized that no one was coming. She let out a long sigh as she tried to calm her racing heart and frantic breath. She was not designed to be a spy, she realized. She could well imagine Warwick would have handled this so much more calmly.
Returning to the study door, she held her ear next to it, searching for any sign of someone on the other side. Once she was relatively sure it was clear, she slipped back out and returned to Lady Weston.
The older woman watched her approach and then said, “Lord Crawford? Is that the man?”
Amanda froze for a second until she realized her friend was still trying to discover her non-existent secret love. She cast her mind out as she tried to remember who Lord Crawford was. A young brother to an Earl she believed. Smiling at Lady Weston she raised her eyebrows and smiled.
If Lady Weston was still worried about matchmaking. Then she had no idea of what was really going on.
For the first time that night, she relaxed. Wait until Warwick heard what she had found was her only thought.
Chapter Eight
“You what?” Lord Warwick yelled as he pushed himself up in bed. What was the woman thinking? She could have been caught. Everything might have been ruined.
Amanda flinched as she took a step back. Pulling herself upright, she looked down at him as if he had no right to be upset.
“I said, I searched Lord Hicks’s study.”
“I heard you. What were you thinking?” His body shook with frustration. This woman had risked herself. For what?
Throwing the blankets aside, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Thankfully, Molly had gotten him a nightshift and robe. To hell with propriety, this could not be allowed to continue.
“I was thinking that there are men dying and you said time was of the essence,” Amanda said. “You are not the only one who loves this country. And you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
Placing her hands on her hips, she stared back at him, daring him to disagree.
“When it comes to this matter I do,” he said as he took a tentative step towards her.
She held his stare for a long moment then sighed heavily. “Don’t you want to know what I discovered?”
“I just want to know if Lord Hicks is aware. If he believes we are onto him I will never trap him.”
She frowned, “No, he is not aware,” she assured him.
His shoulders slumped with relief for a moment. “Well, that is something.”
She shook her head.
He knew that he had not reacted as she had expected. But the thought of her being in danger. Because of him no less, sent a bolt of fear mixed with anger right through him. No, it was unacceptable.
Amanda studied him for a moment then said, “I found a note, a ledger. I think it might be important.”
Warwick froze, “You didn’t remove it. He will know for sure.”
“No, of course not,” she replied.
He nodded. What had she been thinking of? Playing at a spy. Did she think this was a lark? Something to pass her time? “Did you make a copy?” he asked. Perhaps she had discovered something that might help.
She frowned. “No, there wasn’t time. I heard a noise in the hallway. Besides, he didn’t have spare paper available. I will know next time to bring my own.”
Warwick rolled his eyes. There would never be another time. She had risked herself for nothing. Knowing that there was a note in his office that might be helpful was not enough to justify what she had done.
“I can, however, recreate it if you want?” she said, looking at him with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.
His heart slammed to a halt.
“Here,” she said as she pulled a piece of paper from her lap desk and took it to the side table by the window.
“It was folded like this,” she said, folding the paper long ways. “And two letters followed by a payment or receipt. I assume it was a payment. And then a date.”
Warwick continued to hold his breath. “Do you remember any of the letters?”
She looked up at him and frowned deeply as if he had asked her if the sun would come up in the morning. Of course, she could.
Without saying a word she bent over the paper, dipping her quill into the ink and scratching it across the paper. Lord Warwick continued to remain frozen in place. Afraid that if he moved he might disturb her.
At last, she straightened up and handed him the paper.
He shifted to hold it in the lamplight. Six different two-letter combinations listed twenty-three times down the side. Two of them only once. Others several times. After each one, a three-figure number in pounds and then a date. Each date within the last twelve months.
He studied the list as his heart began to pound in his chest. So much detail. How could she remember all of this after a brief glance,
“Are you sure of this?” he asked without taking his eyes off the paper in his hands.
“Of course I am,” she said with a satisfied smile.
He set the paper dow
n carefully and turned to her. The woman was brilliant and beautiful. He couldn’t believe what she had done. For a year he had hoped to find something like this. And in one night, this woman had moved him a giant step forward.
As he looked at her, something shifted inside of him. The way her eyes sparkled, obviously happy that she had helped. But there was something else. Some unknown mystery that pulled at him. She was like no other woman he had ever known.
Swallowing hard, he continued to stare into her eyes.
“You are truly remarkable Amanda.”
She blushed fiercely but did not look away. Without planning to, his hand lifted to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched as she licked her lips while she brought her hand up to reset her spectacles.
I wonder if she has any idea how tempting she was, he wondered to himself as he leaned forward and took her lips with his.
He hadn’t intended this. He would never have placed her in this situation, but his soul had reacted and he moved before he could stop himself.
What surprised him was how gentle her lips tasted. Like honey and a soft summer wind. His next greatest surprise was that she didn’t slap him, didn’t scream and run from him. Instead, she melted into him. Her lips taking from him. Demanding more. Her hands coming up to rest on his chest, not pushing him away but holding him there for her.
Lord Warwick became lost in the heaven that was Amanda Waters. Lost in the enticing scent of lavender and rose. Lost in this new world that he had never suspected existed.
Without thought, as if drawn on its own, his good arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer as his tongue explored her mouth. Tasting, taking.
The woman moaned softly as she too began to explore. Taking, wanting.
Every nerve in his body came alive at the thought of this woman. His hand drifted down to squeeze and once again she moaned. Giving him permission. Telling him that she wanted this as much as he did.
No, he told himself suddenly. This was Amanda. The one woman he could not take advantage of. The one woman that he could not hurt. This was a forever woman.
With a sense of self-control that he had not known he possessed, he pulled back, his insides yelling at him for being an idiot to pass on this opportunity. Every part of him wanted to take her.
Now. Looking down at her, he realized that it was what she wanted as well.
She might not admit it, but the way she looked up at him invited him to take more. Almost begged him to take more.
Gritting his teeth at his foolishness, he stepped back, reaching to grab the bedpost to steady himself. The woman had shaken him to his very core.
A pretty frown broke out on her brow as she tried to understand why he had stepped away. Her lips pursed in confusion. He could read it in her eyes. She was about to ask him why he had stopped.
But, thankfully, she was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
“Your breakfast, John,” Molly said as she maneuvered her way through the door. The young maid slammed to an immediate halt when she looked up and saw her mistress already there. A deep frown crossed her face as she looked back and forth between them.
Lord Warwick swallowed hard. It was obvious to the maid that something was going on. Amanda’s face had turned as white as the cliffs of Dover and her hand trembled while she tried to put a strand of hair back in place.
“Thank you, Molly, over by the window I think,” Lord Warwick said.
The maid shot him a furious frown as she walked past him, making sure that her path crossed between himself and Amanda. Once she had placed the tray on the table, she turned and studied Amanda.
Lord Warwick smiled to himself. Amanda looked as if she were in shock. As if her world had changed unexpectedly. A sense of pride washed over him. If a woman like Amanda Waters could be impacted by a kiss, then he truly was special.
Finally, Amanda seemed to gather herself. “Yes well… Um… Yes, we will discuss this paper later.” And with that, she fled the room as if it were on fire.
“And other things,” he called after her.
A sense of loss and disappointment filled him. Oh, what would it have been like to share intimacy with Amanda Waters? An experience he would remember for the rest of his life, of that he was sure.
“Your breakfast is getting cold,” Molly said, once again giving him a deep frown. Lord Warwick smiled to himself. So what if the maid saw he was interested in Miss Amanda. Who could blame him?
The woman was beautiful, brave, and very intelligent. Kind and gentle, yet willing to risk everything to help others. The perfect woman if you thought of it.
“Thank you, Molly, and I must say I am famished. “
The young girl continued to frown, “Yes, well, you finish your food and maybe it will help keep your mind off … other things.”
He laughed. No, that was not going to happen.
Chapter Nine
Amanda paced back and forth in her parlor. Why had he kissed her? What did it mean?
Granted, the man had been cooped up in that room for almost two weeks. Was that it? Was he bored? Or was it a way for him to gain control?
Her cheeks flushed because if it was, it had worked. She had been at his mercy. She would have done anything he asked. That sense of wonderful awareness that had flowed into her had lit a fire inside of her she doubted would ever be extinguished.
Even now, hours after the fact, her soul craved more. Needed to experience. Needed to have … something? For the first time in her life, she questioned societies rules about chastity. While she understood the reason behind them. Suddenly, they didn’t seem to be fair.
Lord Warwick could leave this house and have almost any woman he wanted. Yet she could not have one man. Not without marrying him first and that was something that would never happen. The concept of surrendering her will to another person seemed so foreign that she had always thought it impossible. Until now, she realized.
It just wasn’t fair.
Sighing heavily, she turned and retraced her steps while her mind wandered to the man upstairs. So handsome, brave, powerful, and off limits she reminded herself. Lord Warwick did not believe in marriage. He was a rake. Famous for leaving broken hearts across England. When you added in the fact the man was an Earl. No, it could never happen.
Besides, she didn’t believe in marriage, she reminded herself.
No, she thought to herself. She would not allow her heart to be used and tossed aside. And the only way to ensure that was to make sure they never kissed again. Because deep down, she knew, if they did, she was lost.
Grimacing, she wondered what he thought of her. Had her kiss been adequate? It seemed to have been well received. She blushed as she remembered the way his hand had felt on her rear.
If Molly had arrived but moments earlier she would have died of shock.
She needed to see him again. Needed to find out what he was thinking. Why had he kissed her and what did it mean going forward?
Yet, she suddenly realized. If she returned to him now, he would know the truth. That she could not keep away from him. That she craved his attention. And knowing Lord Warwick, he would use that, twisting and turning her until once again she was ready to commit any sin.
Her father’s cane, she thought. The man couldn’t question her motives if she was trying to help him. The perfect excuse. Hurrying to her father’s study, she burst into the room. There it was, in the corner where it had rested since his death. A twisted gnarled cane with a carved lion’s head.
Slowly, she remembered her father walking through the park holding her hand when she was a little girl. The cane tapping with each step.
What would her father think of Lord Warwick? She wondered. He would have liked him, she realized. Not because of his status but because of the man he was. But he wouldn’t have trusted him around his daughter. No, her father was no fool.
Taking up the cane, she took it upstairs. With each step, she questioned what she was doing. What if he tr
ied to kiss her again? What if he didn’t? The world was spinning in a thousand different directions as she stopped outside his door and ran a hand down her dress and checked her hair in the back.
Yes, she was ready, but still, she hesitated for a moment. Her heart fluttered as a strange new excitement raced through her.
Why was she so nervous? Why now, Why him. This new unknown feeling that filled her was so strange. So unexpected
“Get a hold of yourself, Amanda,” she muttered under her breath as she knocked.
“Come in,” he said from the other side of the door.
Such a deep, commanding voice she thought with a smile as she opened the door. She found him sitting at the far table, examining several pieces of paper. He looked up at her and smiled. A new and different smile, she realized. One meant just for her. A smile that told her he was remembering their kiss.
“Um … I brought you this,” she said, holding out the cane as if were a shield protecting her. A reason to be there.
He glanced at the cane then back at her and she knew instantly that he could see right through her subterfuge. He knew she was there to see him. Not to deliver the cane.
“Thank you,” he said as he pushed himself up to a standing position. He is getting better, she realized. Each day he grew stronger, more mobile.
“It was my father’s,” she replied. “I should have thought of it earlier.”
He took the cane and using his good arm rested his weight on it, taking a few steps. “Yes,” he said. “It will work well. Thank you.”
Amanda nodded, suddenly she felt awkward. What now? Was that it? Should she turn and leave him to his work. Their eyes caught for a moment as her stomach turned over.
His work, of course, that was her opening. “What are you working on?” she asked as she moved past him to examine the papers on the table.
“I’m trying to decipher the initials. I am sure they are payments to men for their knowledge. I just need to decipher who they might be.
Amanda picked up the piece of paper he had been working one. “FB is Freddie Bartholomew. You’ve written. Are you sure? And who is he?”
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