Page 24 of A Scoundrel in the Making

“Actually, I hoped you might keep him busy. Perhaps playing cards? That way, I can be assured he won’t interrupt my search.”

He hesitated, then said, “As you wish.”

He sounded disappointed. Surely, he didn’t really want to assist in the search?

“Did you plan on doing any exploring tonight?” he asked.

He did want to search. She had planned on retiring early tonight, but the information about Mr. Russell had invigorated her.

“It is too risky to search their private quarters tonight. There’s no telling when he or Mrs. Russell might retire. In any case, I’m not certain he would hide the Honors there.”

“A treasure room,” Reade said.

She smiled. “That would be apropos, don’t you think?”

“And quite convenient. The treasure room is either in a tower or below the kitchen. The servants will be busy cleaning in the kitchen. Shall we take a look in the upper floors? There are stairs not too far ahead,” he said.

“Perfect.”

They reached the stairs and climbed two floors to the small southeast turret, but found no treasure room. They had no better luck with the other three turrets.

“I imagine by now the servants have finished in the kitchen,” Reade said.

“No better time than the present to see if there is a treasure room below ground,” Abigail agreed. They descended to the ground floor and neared the great hall when voices sounded ahead.

“You are certain,” a man’s voice said.

“Saw them with my own eyes,” another man replied.

Abigail exchanged a glance with Lord Reade and read in his eyes the same recognition she’d felt. The second speaker was Lord Chaluim.

“Damn, but I didn’t believe he would do it,” the first man said.

She mouthed the words, It couldn’t be.

He shrugged.

“Now we see what he does with them,” Chaluim replied in a no-nonsense voice that contrasted the foppish tone he’d used earlier. “Could change the tide,” he said.

Their voices were coming closer. Abigail pulled her hand free of Reade’s arm and scanned the dimly lit hallway. No nearby doors, and they’d left the stairs back behind the turn. He seized her hand and began a jog back the way they’d come. They would never reach the corner before the men entered the hallway. He halted. In the next instant, he crushed her against the wall and his mouth came down on hers.

He grasped her wrists and shoved them up against the wall. Her heart thundered. His full mouth was as warm and moist as she’d imagined. He tasted faintly of the brandy he’d drunk. When he released a breath, Abigail melted into him. He gently slipped his tongue between her lips. She sucked him inside and he groaned. Their tongues sparred, causing the juncture between her legs to tighten. She tugged her arm in an effort to free her hand from his grasp—she needed to touch him—but his hold tightened. He slipped a knee between her legs and she became aware of the hard length pressing against her abdomen.

He slid a warm kiss along her cheek, her jaw… Dear God, her neck.

Her head swam.

Reade abruptly broke the embrace and released her hands. She seized his lapel and allowed her head to fall forward onto his chest. Her heart pounded in her ears. Reade pulled her close and turned a fraction. She tilted her head enough to see between him and the wall. Two men approached. Lord Chaluim and another gentleman she didn’t recognize. Even in the dim hallway, she discerned Lord Chaluim’s thunderous expression.

Lord Reade eased her away from the wall and placed her hand in the crook of his arm as the men reached them.

“Reade,” Chaluim said. “I see your walk has been fruitful.”

Lord Chaluim was pointedly ignoring her. Good. She wouldn’t have to worry about that dance she’d promised him tomorrow evening.

“My lord.” Reade angled his head in acknowledgement.

The men continued past and Reade started away at a slow walk in the opposite direction.