Page 40 of A Scoundrel in the Making

Lady Julia stiffened. “I beg your pardon, my lady. I did not mean to offend.”

Abigail shrugged. “For you to offend, I would have to care for you. Now, if you will excuse me, I see a friend.” She turned and left Julia staring, mouth agape.

Abigail hurried toward the hallway where Reade and Mr. Russell had gone. Excitement buzzed in her belly. She reached the hallway and found them in the second card room. A third gentleman dealt a hand at the table where they sat with a fourth gentleman. Earlier, Reade had agreed to allow Mr. Russell to win in hopes of keeping him at the table. Reade claimed to have a reputation for being a skilled card player. Beating him would be a coup for Mr. Russell, who, according to Reade, was a mediocre player.

She recalled the man who’d accused him of cheating. “No one wins that many hands without cheating.”

Reade reached for his cards and her gaze caught on his long, tanned fingers. A shiver slipped down her arms.

Abigail whirled and headed down the hallway away from the ballroom. This was the first time in her career that she’d been distracted by a man. Thankfully, he was on her side…and in her bed.

Bloody hell, she had to forget him.

As planned, she first searched his private library, and found not a trace of a secret passageway or hidden rooms. Next, she searched the small parlor beside the library, and again found nothing. That left one other room on this floor: Jane Russell's bedchambers. Abigail would've been surprised to find the Honors hidden there, but couldn’t overlook any possible hiding place. To her surprise, she found no trace of a hidden door in the lady’s room. So, the lord of the castle was making sure his lady couldn’t sneak from her room to meet a lover.

Abigail returned to the hallway, pulling Jane's door closed behind her. She glanced left toward Mr. Russell's room. The two times she'd searched the room, the search had been inadequate. She couldn't eliminate that room from doubt until she was certain no place remained where the Honors could be hidden. She’d spent an hour and forty-five minutes searching the three rooms. How much longer might Reade be able to keep Russell busy?

Abigail took the half dozen steps to his door and tried the knob. She smiled. He’d locked the door. That interested her. She withdrew the small leather pouch from the folds of her dress and took out two lock picks. In seconds, she had the door unlocked and slipped inside. She replaced the picks, dropped the pouch into her pocket, then locked the door, and turned to survey the room. They’d searched the secretary, the nightstand, and under the bed. The passageway was located to the right of the hearth.

Forty minutes later, Abigail was forced to admit that there was no other hidden door in either the bed chambers or washroom. Her gaze caught on the wardrobe. She'd searched the piece early yesterday, soon after her arrival. Had that been only yesterday? It seemed a lifetime ago.

She crossed to the wardrobe and studied it. Only clothes hung inside. With a sigh, Abigail closed the door. Then paused. What about behind it? The clothes weighed very little. Could she move the closet? She went to the side, grasped the front and back, and heaved to the side. To her surprise, she was able to scoot the wardrobe a few inches away from the wall. With a deep breath, she heaved again. This time, she dragged the wardrobe far enough from the wall that she could squeeze between it and the wall. She shimmied into the space between the wardrobe and the wall, running her hand across the wall as she went, but to her frustration, found no secret door.

Nothing was ever that easy.

She drew a deep breath and her shoulders pressed against the back of the wardrobe. The wood gave way. Abigail slid out of the crevice, then turned to face the wardrobe and slipped back inside. She pressed against the back of the wardrobe. The back gave. She ran her fingers along the edges of the wardrobe but found no purchase which would allow her to pull out what she now believed had to be a false back.

She scooted out from behind the wardrobe and hurried around the front. She threw open the doors, shoved aside the clothes, and crawled inside. Excitement rammed through her as she began to feel around the back. The fingers of her right hand brushed an edge. He worked her fingernails around the side of the thin wood plank and yanked forward. Wood cracked, then gave way, and she fell back against the door frame. Abigail stared, breathing hard. The state sword of Scotland lay nestled sideways in the back of the wardrobe, and on the bottom of the hidden compartment rested two linen wrapped objects that she knew had to be the scepter and crown.