Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Perhaps a servant, coming in to clean. But would they be doing that at this time of night?
Still, she could not take a chance. She quickly moved from the chair and under the desk, hoping she wouldn’t be found.
Then the creak of the door opening.
She held her breath.
“Let’s get on with it, quickly,” a masculine voice said.
It was low, nearly a whisper, though it seemed familiar. Had Tricia heard the voice before?
“I don’t feel right about this,” another voice, this one even more familiar than the first, replied.
“We don’t have a choice. We’re in too far. See if he left it in here.”
“How do you know it’s even in here?”
“Where else would it be? You think he’s keeping it on his person, where anyone could look at it?”
“If I know my cousin, yes—”
Tricia clamped her hand over her mouth to suppress a gasp.
It was Jonathan Jameson. She did know the voice. She couldn’t quite place the other though.
What was going on? And why were they in Thomas’s study?
“It’s probably in his desk.”
Tricia’s heart stopped. She would be discovered if they crossed to the other side of Thomas’s desk.
“Don’t be a fool. He would hide it somewhere less obvious. He’s suspicious.”
“Right.” The cousin paused. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”
“You’re in over your head now. It’s happening. And we’ll all be the richer for it.”
Tricia gulped, hoping it wasn’t audible.
There was a scrape of furniture moving near the door and then the sound of a cushion falling to the floor.
“Here it is.”
“Good. You know what to do.”
And then silence.
They’d stopped talking.
Tricia heard the rustle of papers, and then…
Was it a strike of a match?
She couldn’t leave, couldn’t risk being seen.
What were these people going to do to Thomas?
Then the click of the door, and the smell…
The smell of fire.
31
After watching his cousin and Victor dance the evening away with Tricia, Thomas had had quite enough.
He was ready to take her into his arms and reserve the rest of her dances, however, he could not find her.
Polk and Jonathan seemed to have vanished as well, and that was not a good thing.
Thomas counted to ten, adjusted his gloves and his cravat, and left the ballroom.
Servants were milling about, so he grabbed a young maid and asked her to check the ladies’ retiring room to see if Tricia was there.
“Of course, my lord.” She walked into the ladies’ retiring area and returned momentarily. “No, my lord. Lady Patricia is not in there. Only Lady Francesca Lawrence and her mother.”
“Thank you.”
The young maid bowed and went on with her duties.
Thomas strode through the mansion to the foyer, where he inhaled deeply.
Something smelled a bit off.
Almost like…
And it was coming from the adjacent hallway—the hallway that led to his study.
“Oh my God!”
Smoke was seeping out from underneath the door of his study. “What the bloody hell!” He touched the doorknob, and even through his glove it was hot, but he managed to turn it and open the door.
Flames greeted him.
“Help!” He screamed down the hallway. “Help me! The study’s on fire. I need water. Quickly!” Then he closed the door.
“Thomas!”
A voice. Tricia’s voice.
And it was coming from inside the study.
His heart nearly popped out of his chest.
He opened the door once more. “Tricia!” There she was, beyond the flames, behind his desk near the window. What was she doing here?
But he didn’t care. He had to get her out of harm’s way.
“Thomas, I’m here. I tried to break the window. I—”
Thomas didn’t think. He ran into the room, right through the flames, toward Tricia.
Tricia screamed. “Thomas, your coat!”
He looked down. The sleeves of his coat were on fire, and the acrid scent of his singed hair somehow made it through the smoke to his nose.
He scrambled out of the garment quickly and stomped the flames out with his feet.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Thomas said.
He picked up his leather chair and threw it against the window. The glass shattered and, as quickly as he could, he placed his burned coat around the window so they wouldn’t get cut by the shards of glass.
He lifted Tricia and helped her through, and then he scrambled through himself just as the ledgers on his desk erupted in flames.
Tricia melted into his arms. “Oh, Thomas! I was so scared.”
“Tricia, what happened?”
She burst into tears. “I… I’m sorry, Thomas. I’m sorry I was in your office.”
“Do you think I care about that right now? I’m just happy you’re safe. What the devil happened?”
“I… I was sneaking around, I suppose, and I—”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve alerted my staff, and they’ll send a messenger to the fire department, though who knows how long it will take to get them out to the estate. How on earth did the fire start?”
“Oh, it wasn’t me. Two men came in. Scattered some papers around, and the next thing I knew everything was in flames.”