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“Good. It keeps you from growing too arrogant.” What would those talented lips feel like on other portions of her body? Still staring at his mouth, she sighed. “Perhaps we can have a public quarrel where I accuse you of something scandalous. Or perhaps you can do the same of me and can beg off.” Heat seeped into her cheeks. She shrugged. “It isn’t the most pressing problem just now.”

And if she didn’t stop having inappropriate thoughts about this man, the demise of her reputation would be but one of them.

“Then shall we walk the property and search for possible sites where the treasure might have been hastily stored?” Again, he offered his crooked arm. “At least before the rain comes?”

“I think we shall.” She grinned and he did the same. “Oh, what did the clue say? The one you found with Lord Applewaite’s body?” Knowing that would help her to narrow down possible locations.

“Ah, yes. You would need that information, wouldn’t you?”

“It would be helpful.”

He nodded and then was obliged to clap his hat back onto his head at the next gust of wind. “It read, ‘removed from the manor where one can contemplate prose.’” With a frown, he regarded her. “I’ll admit, I’m not quite certain what it means, but I haven’t discounted any possibility.”

“That was why you were at Brambleberry Cottage.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course.”

A chuckle left her throat as they set off once more down the road. “Now I want to look through it.”

“Not unless we find another credible clue. Until then, search for mounds in the earth that appear as a grave or tell me the location of any forgotten vaults or spots where buildings once stood. We’ll start there.”

“Oh, this will be such fun!” She gripped his arm all the tighter. “Thank you for this splendid early Christmas gift.”

At least his presence chased away the loneliness. Finally, she wouldn’t have just the cat to keep her company.

Chapter Eight

“I’m sorry to say that we are going to have to find shelter from this rain!” Hawk was forced to shout, for the precipitation had grown steadily heavier in the past handful of minutes.

For the last three hours, he and Belle had been combing the property in search of possible burial sites or hidden places where a cache of valuables might be stowed, but not knowing how big the collection was—or if the three trunks Applewaite had absconded with were the only ones—they were searching rather blindly. And now, stuck at the farthest acre of the property, there was no way to return to the manor without becoming drowned rats, for they had an hour’s walk ahead of them.

“Where?” She glanced about, and he envied her the hood on her cloak. Her breath clouded around her head from the cold air.

Damn, but she was a brick about it! Never once had she complained about the chill or the rain or the lack of discovery.

A large shadow loomed through the curtain of rain. “There’s a tenant cottage over there. Perhaps it’s unoccupied.”

“It is. All four of them are. They need refurbishing, so I moved the tenants last year to other cottages on the estate.” She held the edge of her hood away from her face. “At least the roofs on them should still be mostly intact. But the doors are locked. The keys are in the study.”

“That won’t be an issue. At least we’ll be out of this damned rain until we can make it back to the manor.” Passing a few hours soaked to the bone in the cold did not sound appealing.

He led the way through the gloom. At the door to the modest cottage, he used his shoulder as a battering ram to the wood. With a shudder and creaking hinges, it gave way, and all too soon they were inside. The sudden cessation from the overwhelming rain crashed into his ears. That silence was quite deafening.

“I’m grateful for the respite.” As Belle closed the door, her body shook from a shiver. “Let’s pray the rain ends soon.”

“Indeed.”

Needing something to occupy him, Hawk took a quick tour of the cottage. Besides the common room and a smaller kitchen on the ground floor, there was a short corridor that led to a few smaller spaces, all devoid of furniture. Upstairs, two bedchambers waited. One of them had a pallet on the floor, but from the layer of dust and the evidence of mice, there would be no chance of using that. As soon as his companion knew that rodents had invaded, she would be hysterical.

I will keep that information to myself.

But he did remove some of the straw filling from the mattress. It would be enough tinder to start a fire. When he returned, Belle stood on a braided rug in front of the cold hearth with her cloak over one arm. “There is nothing of import left in this cottage unless you count a rather poor pallet upstairs, but everything seems dry, so we are better off than we were before.”

Though she shivered again, she shot him a small smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve never had such an experience before, and it’s much better than sitting by myself in the drawing room.”

“Or making conversation with your brother-in-law?” he couldn’t help but add as he thrust the straw into her free hand.

A giggle from her was his reward, and the sound was so engaging, he hoped to encourage it again. “There is that.” He shed his greatcoat and then laid it over the floor opposite the hearth. Since the common room wasn’t overly wide, once he had a fire going, they would be warm in no time. Then he peered into the fireplace. Soot stained some of the tiles, but the tools needed were still there. “Thank the gods there is still wood piled here.” And it hadn’t been used for nesting material.


Tags: Sandra Sookoo Historical