It pulled open easily, and I was able to slide the top drawer back in place. It was heavy and awkward, but I got it in and no one would ever be the wiser.
I was right. The bottom drawer did have hanging file folders, all labeled with initials and dates. I grabbed the first one, and it was nothing but a list of first names in one column, dates in the next, and then what looked like probably bank account numbers and amounts.
The next was more of the same, but the amounts were getting bigger. I kept thumbing through files, looking for something that screamed evidence.
It would have been so much more helpful if Lucian had just labeled a file folder Evidence That Would Get Me Thrown In Jail.
Sadly, I wasn’t that lucky.
I thumbed through pages, wondering how as a college-educated woman, I didn’t understand a damn thing on here. Maybe I should have gone to business school instead of finishing school.
Pages and pages of numbers and dates and just first names. That couldn’t be normal. Surely the accounts would have to have last names attached to them. But nothing gave me any indication if these were deposits or withdrawals, money transfers, or receipts of payments for purchases.
“Well, well, well,” Lucian said.
I peeked over the desk to see him standing at the door, leaning in the door frame with his arms crossed. He didn’t look mad. It was so much worse. He looked amused.
“What exactly do you think you are doing?” he said, taking a step inside and kicking the door closed behind him.
I reached back and clicked the lock as quickly as I could. I put the papers back into the bottom drawer, keeping just a few out, tucked under my knees.
“I was just looking for a pad and paper,” I said in the sweetest voice I could manage. “Your butler wasn’t any help. So I had to go find it myself.”
I stood, picking up the pages with one hand, hiding them behind my back, pretending to straighten my suit as I slipped them under my jacket and tucked them into the waist of my skirt. They wouldn’t hold forever, but it might be long enough to get them to my room.
“I don’t believe you. Hamilton would have never let you into my office.”
“I didn’t say he let me into your office,” I said, assuming Hamilton was the butler. “I said he wasn’t helpful when I asked for a pad and paper.”
“What did he say then?”
“He said that little orphans should work in the kitchens, not sleep in the master of the house’s bed.”
Lucian tipped his head back and laughed, and I used the momentary distraction to make sure the pages were secure at my back.
“What were your rules, Stella?”
“I am to behave, at all times, call you sir in private, and accompany you to events where I will continue to behave as a grateful ward until you announce our engagement in six months.” I repeated the asinine rules he’d given me while staring at the ground.
Caving to him like this made my stomach flip in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and I didn’t want to think about it.
“And what else?” he asked, taking a threatening step towards me.
“I’m to stay out of your business,” I said.
“And are you?”
“Yes, sir.” I hated how my core warmed when I said those words. They shouldn’t have turned me on the way they did. He should not be the only source of warmth I had.
“Then why did you try to get into my computer?” he asked, reaching over the desk to slide open the drawer.
“I didn’t, sir. I promise.”
“Oh, baby girl. That was exactly what I was hoping you were going to say.”
He opened the laptop, hit a few keys, and turned it around to show me a photo of my face taken when I opened it.
“I…” I had no idea how I was going to cover this up. “I’m sorry, sir. I just wanted a bigger allowance,” I lied.