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“Begging your pardon, Caroline,” James cut in, “but we are the thieves and brigands in this little tableau.”
Caroline choked back laughter.
Blake fumed.
James looked back and forth between them with unconcealed interest. Finally he said, “She's right, Ravenscroft. We can't leave her alone out here. Lead on, Caroline.”
Blake was cursing a streak so blue it might as well have been black, but he trudged behind James and Caroline without an otherwise negative comment.
She took them to a side door that was partially concealed by a tall English maple. Then she crouched down and put her finger to her lips, indicating that they should remain still. The two men looked at her with puzzlement and interest as she heaved upward, slamming her shoulder into the door. They heard a latch come undone, and Caroline swung the door open.
“Won't the butler have heard that?” James asked.
She shook her head. “His room is too far away. The only person who lives on this side of the Hall is the housekeeper, and she's quite deaf. I've sneaked in and out this way many times. No one has ever caught on.”
“You might have told us this before,” Blake said.
“You'd never have gotten it right. You have to hit the door just so. It took me weeks to learn.”
“And what were you doing sneaking out at night?” he demanded.
“I fail to see how that is your business.”
“You became my business when you took up residence in my house.”
“Well, I wouldn't have moved in if you hadn't kidnapped me!”
“I wouldn't have kidnapped you if you hadn't been wandering about the countryside with no thought to your own safety.”
“I was certainly safer in the countryside than I was at Prewitt Hall, and you well know it.”
“You wouldn't be safe in a convent,” he muttered.
Caroline rolled her eyes. “If that isn't the most ridiculous—Oh, never mind. If you're so upset that I didn't let you open the door, here, I'll close it again and you can have a go at it.”
He took a menacing step forward. “Do you know, if I strangled you here and now there's not a jury in this country that wouldn't acquit—”
“If you two lovebirds can stop snapping at each other,” James cut in, “I'd like to search the study before Prewitt returns home.”
Blake glared at Caroline as if this entire delay were her fault, causing her to hiss, “Don't forget that if it weren't for me—”
“If it weren't for you,” he shot back, “I would be a very happy man indeed.”
“We are wasting time,” James reminded them. “The both of you may remain here, if you cannot cease your squabbling, but I am going in to search the south drawing room.”
“I'll go first,” Caroline announced, “since I know the way.”
“You'll go behind me,” Blake contradicted, “and give me directions as we go along.”
“Oh, for the love of Saint Peter,” James finally burst out, exasperation showing in every line of his body. “I'll go first, if only to shut the two of you up. Caroline, you follow and give me directions. Blake, you guard her from the rear.”
The trio made their way into the house, amazingly without another word except for Caroline's whispered instructions. Soon they found themselves in front of the door to the south drawing room. James pulled out an odd flat tool and inserted it in the lock.
“Will that thing really work?” Caroline whispered to Blake.
He nodded curtly. “Riverdale's the best. He can pick a lock faster than anyone. Here, watch. Three more seconds. One, two…”
Click. The door swung open.
