The de Valery Code (7 page)

“But why are you taking it to Stratton Hall to compare it with this other book?” Her eyes narrowed. “This whole endeavor is suspicious.”

Margery couldn’t disagree. “Do you truly want to return to Gloucester in the morning?” This was by far a better topic than the book. Besides, if Mrs. Edwards meant to leave, Margery would have to make other arrangements for a chaperone.

“I do, and you should come with me. This is a dangerous escapade.” She said this in her best I-know-better-than-you-and-as-your-chaperone-it’s-my-duty-to-remind-you-of-that tone.

“I trust Mr. Bowen to keep me safe.” She was surprised when the words escaped her mouth. She might not trust his motives regarding the book, but he’d jumped to their defense with alacrity and vigor—and she didn’t think it was just because of the manuscript. The way he’d looked at her . . .
 
She suppressed another shiver. “He can keep us both safe. Plus, I’ll sleep with a poker.”

This earned a smile from Mrs. Edwards. “That was rather brilliant of you. Your aunts will find this tale most diverting.”

Her aunts. Oh dear, this would worry them needlessly. She didn’t want to keep it from them, but there would be time to tell them later. “If you do return to Gloucester, please don’t tell them what happened. Just say you needed to come home.” Margery touched her hand, which sat atop the coverlet in her lap. “Please, this errand is absolutely necessary and I won’t have them upset.”

After a long moment, Mrs. Edwards nodded. “Let me consider whether I will continue with you to Stratton Hall. After I sleep.
If
I sleep.” She lay back against the pillow and brought the bedclothes up to her neck.

“That sounds like an excellent notion.” She brushed her hand against the worn cotton of the quilt. “I’ll just wait for Mr. Bowen to return.”

She partially closed the door and moved into the corridor, leaning against the wall. A few minutes later, the light of a lantern flashed down the hallway and Mr. Bowen came into view. He’d donned a shirt and waistcoat, though his neck remained bare.

“There’s no sign of the brigand yet. I’m sure he’s gone and won’t bother us again tonight.”

Holding the book to her chest, she pinned him with an intense stare. “I think it’s past time you told me the truth about this book. What are you hiding about its value?”

He hesitated a moment too long, his mouth pulling down.

“Tell me now or I’m returning to Gloucester in the morning—with my book.” Her voice climbed. “That you would put me and Mrs. Edwards in danger—”

He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Enough. The book holds a secret code.” He gritted his teeth as if he’d hated letting the words out. Which he probably did.

She moved his hand away from her mouth, though his touch hadn’t bothered her nearly as much as it should have. “A secret code for what?’

“A treasure.”

Margery resisted the urge to kick him. “You bounder!”

He took a small step back. “I don’t even know if the code is real. I wanted to make sure before I told you.”

“So you planned to tell me after you did whatever you were going to do at Stratton Hall? Forgive me if I don’t trust you at all just now.”

His dark eyes glittered in the lantern light. “This book . . . this treasure . . . They’re important to me in ways you can’t understand. To you, they represent a monetary find, but to me, they are the discovery of a lifetime.”

“And your discovery is more important than my need for money?” She pressed her lips together, wishing she could take the words back. “What is this treasure?”

“No one knows for certain. The pair of books is alleged to be coded with information that will lead to something important. Perhaps another of the thirteen treasures, like the Heart of Llanllwch.”

“You were never going to tell me about the treasure, were you?” Suddenly the book felt like a possible weapon in her arms. One she could bludgeon him with. “You planned to solve the code at Stratton Hall and probably send me on my way back to Gloucester without ever even purchasing the book.”

He had the grace to look aghast. “That isn’t true. I wanted to buy the book. I still do. You’re the one who changed their mind about selling it. I’ll buy it from you right now—name your price.” He leaned toward her, his features harsh. “
Any
price.”

“Oh, I’ll sell you the book.
After
we find the treasure and split it.”

His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “
We
find the treasure?”

“You need this book to find it. And I’m not letting it out of my sight, especially not after you tried to swindle it from me without disclosing its true value.”

“Swindle?” His voice rose, but he reined it back by clenching his jaw. “I did no such thing. I offered you a fair price.”

“Fair for what? A rare medieval text? Perhaps. For a treasure that you called the ‘discovery of a lifetime’? Your offer didn’t even come close to paying for something of that value.” She notched her chin up and straightened her spine. “Take my offer or leave it. It’s the only way you’ll have access to my book.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “That isn’t going to make for a very solid alliance.”

“You’re right. Perhaps we should part ways right now. I can visit Stratton on my own and solve the code.”

“The devil you will. I’m not letting you anywhere near him without my protection.” He dropped a glance at the book. “And just how do you purport to solve this code when you don’t even know what it looks like?”

She eyed him with a generous dose of skepticism. “I suppose you do?”

His muttered epithet gave her a notable amount of satisfaction.

“Do we have an accord?” she asked.

His eyes were still dark as pitch, but there was a glint of something in their depths—begrudging admiration perhaps. “Yes.”

Margery exhaled, not realizing she’d held her breath. “Have you any idea who tried to steal this?” She tightened her grip on the book.

He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Did you speak to anyone about it?”

“No.” She’d kept it close and hadn’t discussed it with anyone. “My aunts had forgotten all about it until we found it in the attic just the other day.”

His expression mirrored how she felt—utterly confounded. “Well, someone knows you have it. We’ll need to be very careful.”

“This someone is after the treasure, not just the book.”
 

He inclined his head. “I think it’s safe to assume that, yes. But Stratton has the other book and without both, the code can’t even be detected.”

She knew that to be true, since she’d spent countless hours studying the text and hadn’t noticed anything that could be interpreted as a secret code. She supposed that was what made it
secret
. “Even
with
both, the code might be meaningless, unless we can decipher it.”

“We will.” He spoke confidently, but she had to admit she found his streak of hubris somewhat attractive. Probably because he had the intelligence and wit to support it. “Does Mrs. Edwards really want to return home? I suppose I can have Craddock drive her, and I can hire a coach to take us to Stratton Hall. Then there is the matter of a chaperone—”

“She’s pondering it while she sleeps. I’m hopeful she’ll just continue with us, though she is quite upset.”

He cocked his head to the side. It was a slight, innocuous movement, but it put his head at an angle that made him seem even more attractive, if that was possible. “I’m a little surprised you’re not.”

Margery appreciated the admiration in his tone. “It takes a great deal to rattle me. However, I didn’t wake up with a large, ugly man waving a knife in my face, so I reserve the right to behave precisely as Mrs. Edwards did.”

“You’re an extraordinary young woman, Miss Derrington.” He moved subtly closer, and it was as if the air in the corridor thinned. “But if that ever happens to you, I pity the man, for I’ll ensure he won’t live to see the morrow.”

Chapter Four

The early afternoon sun shone bright as Rhys helped the ladies—Mrs. Edwards had decided to join them after waking up feeling better that morning—from the coach in the drive at Stratton Hall. The butler, whom Rhys vaguely recalled was Post, met and led them into the wide marble entry hall.

Unable to keep his eyes open after a mostly sleepless night, due to the intrusion on Miss Derrington and Mrs. Edwards, Rhys had dozed off for a bit in the coach. He’d dreamed of treasure and verbally battling with his lovely partner. Until their sparring had turned into seduction. When he’d awakened, Miss Derrington had thankfully been too engrossed in her book to notice his half-aroused state.

Shooting a glance at his companions, he wondered how they were faring. Mrs. Edwards had also slept, but Rhys didn’t know if Miss Derrington had rested. The flesh beneath her eyes was stained a faint lavender, but didn’t detract from her striking beauty. Hopefully his cousin wouldn’t find her as attractive as Rhys did.

“Bowen, my good man!” Stratton’s voice echoed through the hall as he strode from the base of the staircase at the far end. “It’s been far too long. I’m delighted you’ve come to visit, even if it is to look at some musty old book.”

Right away, Rhys noted the resemblance between Stratton and Penn. It wasn’t strong, the boy favored his mother, but there was something about the cut of their jaws and the shape of their noses that revealed their familial connection. Rhys would endeavor to ensure the two were never together.

The earl was darkly attractive, which only aided his lecherous behavior. He was also erudite, deceptively charming, and a callous prick. He stopped short upon seeing Miss Derrington, and though Rhys hadn’t seen his cousin in a few years, he recognized the look sparking in his eyes—and it wasn’t good.

Rhys edged closer to Miss Derrington, who stood to his right. “Hello, cousin. Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”

Stratton’s gaze didn’t stray from Miss Derrington. So much for Rhys’s hopeful thinking. “I’ve said you’re welcome any time.” He moved forward and took her hand, bowing gallantly before pressing a kiss to the back. “A pleasure, Miss Derrington. Welcome to Stratton Hall.”

“Thank you, my lord. This is my companion and chaperone, Mrs. Edwards.”

“Chaperone, eh?” He darted a glance at Rhys, who had moved even closer to Miss Derrington—close enough that they nearly touched.

“I believe I included that fact in my missive,” Rhys said, perhaps a touch too coolly. He looked at Post. “Please see that they lodge together and that the accommodation is sufficient.”

Post nodded. “Of course.”

“In the east wing,” Stratton said.

Rhys wasn’t completely certain, but suspected that was where Stratton’s quarters were located, and that was unacceptable. Rhys did the only thing he could think of: he sidled closer to Miss Derrington and slid his hand along her waist. She tensed, but didn’t flinch away from him. Her lush eyes turned toward him, their depths burning in quiet question.

Rhys gave an almost imperceptible nod trying to communicate that she should just follow his lead. If Stratton believed Miss Derrington and Rhys had an
arrangement,
he would probably leave her alone.

Stratton took the bait, his gaze noting Rhys’s possessive touch. Thankfully, Mrs. Edwards was busy studying the artwork in the hall instead of paying close attention to her charge.

The earl turned to his butler. “I know precisely where to house our guests, Post. Put the ladies in the Orange Chamber and Mr. Bowen in the Knight’s Lounge.” Stratton said this with a smile and a conspiratorial wink directed at Rhys. If he had to guess, he would say his and Miss Derrington’s rooms were in close proximity, which meant Rhys could keep an eye on her. After last night’s invasion, he was loath to let her—and her book—out of his sight. Not just because he would be upset if the manuscript went missing, but because he suspected Miss Derrington would be devastated.
 

The question was, how serious would the devastation be? Simply emotional or were the financial implications of losing the book and the treasure disastrous to her and her aunts? He suspected the latter was a very real concern.

Stratton pivoted and motioned for them to follow him through the hall. “Come, let us take refreshment after your journey. Post will oversee the transport of your luggage upstairs.”