by Kim Allred
When the knock came, Jamie let out a breath. His legs had begun to cramp, and he hadn't been in the boot that long. He couldn't move, and the hot breath of the man stuffed next him gave him a slight case of claustrophobia.
"It's about time. I think I've lost feeling in me legs." Fitz's harsh whisper blew into his ear.
Jamie raised the lid of the boot an inch and breathed in the fresh winter air. When he'd first settled into the luggage box, it brought back memories of stowing away on the Daphne Marie as a youth. Now, a full-sized adult with Fitz's knees poking into his back, the childhood images rapidly faded.
When he didn't see anyone, he climbed out and dropped to his knees. He grimaced in pain as blood returned to his legs. He surveyed his surroundings, noting that Lando had positioned the coach following Beckworth's suggestion. The only people within sight were a handful of coachmen off in the distance. They huddled around a small fire they'd built to stay warm. The coachmen would be smoking and passing around canteens of whiskey until someone suggested a game of dice. He tapped on the boot and backed up.
Fitz slid from the boot, landing on his feet and squatting, his shorter legs seemingly unaffected by the brief confinement. Fitz grinned before making his own study of the layout. When he glanced back, Jamie nodded.
Fitz reached into the boot and brought out the two bundles Finn had given them, handing one to Jamie. Fitz peered around the coach. Jamie assumed Lando was in place because Fitz was up, sprinting to the other side of the barn. Jamie raced after him.
When they'd reached the far side of the stables, the men dropped to a crouch. They unwrapped their bundles and quickly changed their outer coats for jackets that resembled the livery of Waverly. Jamie left Fitz and moved toward the front of the stable.
He peered around the corner and, finding no one around, strode across the front of the barn as if he belonged there and slipped inside. The lantern was where Beckworth said it would be, and he removed it from the hook, setting it down near the first stall. He gave a sharp whistle then moved deeper into the stables.
He was halfway down the aisle when Fitz stepped in, the shuffle of his boots moving toward the right. Jamie continued on until he reached the two outer doors that were held in place by a heavy wooden bar. He hefted the bar and dropped it to the ground before running back to the front of the stables.
Maire stayed by the door, listening for movement on the other side. This had been the one weakness in her planning. The room had no other egress. No window. No secret passage. A simple library turned office.
She slumped against the wall with nothing to do but wait. Time ticked by. She had no idea how long she'd been standing by the door. Her feet didn't hurt, and her breathing was still uneven, so she didn't think it had been as long as it seemed. Maire pressed her head against the wall and closed her eyes. She'd had plenty of practice waiting—six months' worth trapped in a cold cell.
"God's blood, but I think I'm lost again." The squeaky voice of an old woman could be heard over the tinkling of silver against silver. The sound of a servant carrying a service tray.
"Where are you going?" The guard in the hall asked, his tone wary.
"Well now, if I knew that, I wouldn't be lost, would I?" came the short retort.
"Where do you think you're going?" The man sounded irritated.
"I was told to take tea up to Dame Ellingsworth's dressing room, but this doesn't look like the right hallway."
Maire readied herself, hand on the knob. This might be her only opportunity.
"You're in the wrong bloody wing, you ninny. Why they thought of hiring help on the same day of the ball is beyond me," the man grumbled. "The whole lot of you act like you've never served in a great house. You should have turned right out of the kitchen, not left."
"I'm so sorry." The woman's voice was edged with fright. "The house is so big. I can't help but get turned around. And now the tea will be cold."
When the loud weeping began, Maire suppressed a smile.
The loud clatter of objects hitting the stone floor was the signal Maire needed. After waiting a few seconds, she twisted the knob and peeked out.
The tray had crashed to the ground on the far side of the guard. He turned away from Maire and left his post, seemingly caught between berating the servant and helping her pick up the mess. Tea flowed around broken pieces of china cups.
"What a fine mess you have. You'll pay for those cups," the guard growled.
"I'm so sorry." The old woman howled, tears streaming down her face as she wrung her hands.
When the guard began to kneel, the old woman looked up, and Maire almost chuckled.
Eleanor continued to wring her hands as she began to mumble. She spared the barest of nods.
Maire slipped out the door, and as she closed it, Eleanor released another pitiful cry and dropped to the floor in front of the guard. "Don't touch that. You'll cut yourself."
Maire wasted no time and bolted to the foyer, expecting to hear the guard call for her to stop. But the only sound following her was the continued wailing from Eleanor before Maire turned left into a drawing room. She found the door Beckworth had told her about. All the time she'd been his guest, she'd never seen this one. It had been built to blend with the wall. A spring lever in the bookcase that edged the door released the lock, and the door swung inward.
Inside the narrow passageway, she inspected the short hallway and could make out the exit in the dim light. When she closed the door behind her, she was swallowed in darkness. Beckworth mentioned candles kept on a nook in case someone had to hide, but she wouldn't waste the effort. Hands out in front of her, she walked as quick as she dared, having forgotten to scan the floor for impediments. She had to get back to the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, Maire huddled behind the door of a storage room. With a small candle her only light, she held the pages as close to the flame as she dared. After escaping from the library, she'd made her way back to the kitchen without incident. The sound of the party seeped into the basement, a constant hum in a normally quiet house. The kitchen staff never slowed as they continued to prepare food. Footmen scurried back and forth, leaving with burdened trays, returning with empty plates that were taken to the scullery maids who worked with wrinkled, red hands. Keeping her head down, intent on her task, she passed through the kitchen and ran directly to the rarely used room.
After learning about the two sets of invitations, the team knew the primary event of the evening had nothing to do with the masquerade ball and everything to do with a druid gathering. Where Reginald had found willing participants, Maire couldn't imagine, but she admitted to a curiosity to know who would be attending.
The team assumed Reginald would be busy with his dual pursuits, leaving his bedchamber free. The concern was whether Reginald would leave the druid book in a safe place or keep it on his person. They'd know soon.
When Eleanor and Maire had arrived earlier, the house staff had been in chaos, just as Beckworth had predicted. Though Reginald had been at the estate for six months, bringing several of his own staff had only created disorganization and discontent in the household. To make matters worse, for this evening's party, additional staff were hired at the last minute. The staff might appear well-organized, and the house ran well enough on a daily basis. But a major event like a ball required an efficient staff, all trained to work together to make the event successful. Otherwise, someone might find themselves without a job in the morning.
At first, Maire thought everyone was working well together, but within an hour, the gaps and miscommunication became evident. Eleanor, with the assistance of the two lady's maids, worked to widen those gaps by giving the occasional wrong instruction. Soon, little slivers of problems grew to larger ones until staff were running in circles throughout the west and east wings. The housekeeper hustled about in an attempt to bring order back to the house, but it was slow to take hold.
Maire bent her head toward the letter and squinted at the tight, narrow handwriting,
attempting to make sense of what she read. Even with the poor lighting, she saw enough for her earlier fear to return. The letters varied in topic, but Langdon was the main subject. The highlights included his personal schedule, when he'd be in London, and who he associated with. Then her heart rate increased, the blood rushing in her ears when she read the last line from one of the letters.
Have good confidence he has the H.S. but need confirmation of location.
H.S.
That could only mean one thing—the Heart Stone.
All the time she'd been held captive, Reginald asked nothing about the Heart Stone. Nothing she'd translated in the druid's book ever referenced it. Anytime a stone was mentioned, it had been one of the smaller stones. The druid had been obsessed by his experiments with a single stone. Had the Heart Stone been a backup plan? This changed everything. Once the team had the grimoire, they'd need to locate this century's heart stone and ensure a new, safer hiding place.
She considered where a safe place might be and the only person she trusted with something so valuable would be Sebastian.
The knock jarred her, and she dropped the letters. Three soft taps, a long pause, one more tap. Time to move. She picked up the letters, tucked everything back into her pockets, and blew out the candle.
Opening the door slowly, she scanned the hallway. Male voices coming from the kitchen grew closer. They were gruff and loud—guards.
Picking up her skirts, she turned right and ran for the back stairs that led to the second floor.
54
Once night descended, Finn and Beckworth waited another thirty minutes, then left their horses with the men who had followed them. They raced across the lawn to a small door at the back of the east wing and braced themselves against the wall. The shadows created from an upstairs balcony hid them as they waited.
A few minutes later, the door to a garden shed creaked open on their left. The slim form of Thorn took a hesitant step out, seemed to be waiting for his eyes to adjust to the moonlit landscape, then turned his head at the sound of a pebble hitting the side of the shed.
He ducked as he raced to where Finn and Beckworth waited. After another moment, the larger frame of Dodger joined them.
Beckworth turned to the door partially hidden by shrubbery. The door was nondescript, blending with the gray color of the manor. He reached for the recessed handle, found it wouldn't open, and cursed under his breath. "Did my butler have any information about Reginald's evening schedule?" Beckworth fumbled through his pockets.
Finn and Thorn glanced at each other but said nothing. Antagonizing Beckworth wouldn't move him any faster.
"Ah, here it is." Beckworth pulled out a small metal ring with three skeleton keys on it. Using one, he quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside. The rest of the men ducked through the door before Dodger closed it behind them. He fumbled in the dark, and then Finn heard the sound of the flint before the lantern lit the space.
"No," Thorn replied with a sneer, trying to get back to the topic that sent him and Dodger to the party early.
Finn understood Thorn's irritation, since he and Dodger spent almost two hours in the gardener's shed with nothing to show for it.
"Barrington wasn't able to find the footman who'd been assigned to one of the overnight guests," Thorn continued. "If he was worried about it, he didn't show signs of it, but he felt bad about not finding something useful. He did mention several of Dugan's men have been deployed throughout the manor."
Finn glanced at Beckworth. "I can't imagine that's good."
Beckworth shrugged. "Hard to tell with Dugan. He's always been difficult to predict." He stared at the other men then back at Finn. "We're not aborting the mission, are we?"
Finn considered their options, then shook his head. "We could have used more information, but we're already here, and it's too late to pull out the other teams. Let's stay focused."
Finn glanced around. The interior space was larger than he'd expected, measuring more than twenty-feet-by-twenty-feet. Considering it was on the ground floor, there must be rooms on either side that were smaller than those in the west wing, unless that wing also had secret rooms. On the far side of the space, a set of wooden stairs led up through a passageway almost wide enough for a man Lando's size to walk unimpeded.
Finn nodded after everyone seemed to have acclimated to their surroundings. Beckworth started up the stairs, the other three close behind. When they reached the second floor, Beckworth stepped to the side as the others found positions near a door. The passage continued up, but another narrow hallway curved toward the right.
"What's with all the secret tunnels?" Thorn asked as he crouched in a corner, though the ceiling was tall enough to stand.
"Many old estates have servant passages so they can move around the house without being seen. From what I've been able to learn, the manor was built sometime in the mid-seventeenth century. The lord of the manor constantly worried about the estate being overrun, so he added multiple secret passages should he ever need to escape. Some extend to the west wing though they're not as extensive. Only a small number of people know they're here."
"Including Reginald or Dugan?" Finn asked.
"I doubt Reginald knows unless Dugan found out. I never spoke of the passages to anyone but Barrington and Mrs. Calloway, the housekeeper. The last viscount knew, of course, as did his wife. Can't say who they might have told, but for tonight, we should be safe."
"Let's get this done," Finn urged. Time seemed to be slipping away, though he knew they were on schedule.
Beckworth slid his hand along the wall until a light click was followed by the door opening an inch. He pulled it open and disappeared inside.
Finn lit a second lantern and passed it to Thorn. "Give us thirty minutes, then you might want to come see if we're in trouble."
Thorn nodded. "If you feel like leaving Beckworth behind, I think we'd all be okay with that." When Finn grinned and ducked to go through the door, Thorn grabbed his arm. "It goes without saying he should be left so he can't talk."
Finn shook his head. He didn't know what was between those two, and he'd love to hear the tale, assuming they survived the evening. He closed the door behind him until he heard it lock in place. This passage was narrower and lower in height. Beckworth had shuffled down the short hallway, already disappearing through another door.
When Finn caught up, he stood to his full height as he surveyed the master bedroom. He had to admit, he was expecting something a bit more flamboyant for Beckworth. The room held ornate furniture and a massive four-poster bed, but nothing grander than any estate of this size. Somehow, he'd expected everything to be gilded in gold.
"Where do you want to start?" Finn asked.
"I didn't find anything in the dressing room, the dressers, or tucked under his mattress."
The woman's voice startled them both, their hands instinctively reaching for their hilts.
Then Finn relaxed, unable to stop the snarl that erupted. "Do you think you might have called out to reduce the chance of being run through?"
"You've always been so dramatic, brother." Maire slid from the shadows, and Finn had to take a double take. Even though he'd seen her disguise before leaving Eleanor's cottage, it caught him off guard.
"Can you two carry on your family squabble another time?" Beckworth had removed an impressive landscape painting of what looked like Hyde Park. A small recess had been carved into the wall in which an iron box had been placed.
Maire stepped beside him. "Do you have the key?"
Beckworth gave her a withering glance. Pointing at Finn to help, they lifted the box out of the hole and placed it on the floor. Beckworth retrieved the same key ring as before, selecting the smallest of the keys. Within seconds, the lid lifted, and Beckworth pulled out several sheets of paper, two pouches of coin, and several small books which he handed to Maire.
"It's not here." Her tone dismayed as she scanned the room, already searching for another hiding spot.
"Yes. These are ledgers, nothing more."
"Give them back." Beckworth wiggled his fingers, impatience edging his tone. When Maire handed them back, he placed everything back the way he'd found them. After they replaced the box and painting, Beckworth waved an arm. "Spread out and check everything—twice."
They split up, Finn taking a lantern from Maire so he could retrace her steps in the dressing room. When he returned to the bedroom, Maire was still rechecking the dressers while Beckworth searched hidden crevices and small trap doors under the floorboards.
"Are all of these hiding places from previous owners of the estate?" Finn asked.
Beckworth chuckled. "Not hardly." He turned to peer inside an ornate jewelry box, large enough to hold several small books.
"I've already checked that," Maire said. "Twice."
When a small click revealed a hidden door behind the box, Maire shook her head. "And?"
"Nothing." Beckworth slammed it shut.
Finn stood in the middle of the room, frustration eating at him. "Perhaps Ethan was right, and Reginald has the book with him."
Beckworth turned in a circle, his face a mask of intent focus as he surveyed every inch. "I don't think so. Maybe I don't know my brother as well as I thought, but I knew the duke. The only time he was willing to keep something that important on his person was when he was ready to flee. Otherwise, he never wanted to be caught with anything too valuable unless surrounded by several bodyguards.
"The party should be safe enough." Maire continued her search, unwilling to give up, though she was now searching in places too small to hold a book. A clear sign his dear sister was just as frustrated as he was.
"I don't think so." Beckworth repeated his earlier opinion as he turned toward the dressing room. "If he's planning a more private party after the ball, and he's as caught up in this druid thing as you say he is, he'll come up here to change."
