Page 21 of The Time Of Queens

Sophia had told me to first check the panels on the bottom half of the wall that had the wallpaper on, as she knew he had a hidden cupboard door there that I might find a coin in. But if not, her money was on the desk.

Taking her advice, I checked the walls first, finding the cupboard she told me about but unfortunately, I found nothing but papers that looked like legal documents. Land maps and deeds to the estate, such things like that. Releasing a frustrated sigh, I closed it and instead focused on the desk. Starting with taking hold of the little wooden nobs and rolling the top back. And just like I thought, there were multiple little draws to look through and little paper cubbies to check. Not a single coin was found, which was when I thought to check for hidden draws.

I swear, by the end of it I pushed every single inch of this desk and, of course, it was the very last thing I tried that made a hidden panel slide out.

“Yes!” I whispered in excitement, thinking this was finally it. I was finally going to find…

“Son of…oh shit!”I hissed as not only was the panel empty, I also ended up being forced to slam it shut. Then in my panic I just managed to pull down the desktop. This before doingthe only thing I could think to do when I heard the doorknob turning…

Hide under the desk.

Please oh please grab something from the room and leave quickly, whoever you are. Naturally, this silent prayer meant diddly squat to whoever was up there laughing their asses off at my new predicament. Especially when the chair was pushed aside, and I saw the booted feet come to stand right next to me. Of course, I knew what else I would find when looking up and yep, there he was… all six foot four, two hundred and sixty broody pounds of him.

“What do I have here?”

“Oh, my Lord… oww!” I yelped in pain as I banged my head when trying to get out from under his desk. Something he reacted to by covering my head and helping me out, telling me,

“Be careful.”

“Yes… if you haven’t noticed by now, I am quite clumsy,” I told him, making him smile down at me. But then he must have reminded himself of where he had just found me, prompting him to take a step back and folded his arms because of it.

“Why are you in my office, and under my desk for that matter?” he asked in a stern tone.

“Ah that, yes, I am so sorry for the intrusion, my Lord, it’s just my mistress was looking for something,” I told him, all ready with my cover story.

“In my office, prey tell me, whatever could have belonged to her in…”

“…Your office, yes, you said that…”I interrupted on a mutter, something he looked surprised by. But before I could get into even more trouble, I showed him my hand and said,

“My lady’s snuff box.”

“Under my desk?” he asked again, that sceptical brow of his making its rising appearance.

“I do not understand it any more than you do, my Lord, but there we have it,” I replied, trying to move towards the door and make my escape, hoping my nonchalant tone and shrug of my shoulder was enough.

Unfortunately…It was not.

I knew this when he was quick to step in my way.

“May I?” he asked, making me frown in confusion.

“May you… oh, the box, sure,” I said, handing it to his outstretched hand and wanting to smack myself on the head as I forgot my 18thcentury ways and with it, the stuffy way everyone talked. The only reason I knew what to say most of the time was thanks to Jane Austin and how many films had been made of her books. However, right now, his expression was still one of questioning.

“You are right, for it holds her initials,” he stated, making me frown and before I could stop myself, I told him,

“Did you believe I stole yours?”

He looked taken aback at my bluntness for a moment, commenting,

“I can see why Mrs Fitzwilliam chose you as a companion, for I do believe you hold more than commonality in your name but in your easy countenance and way of speaking, also.”

Wow, was that ever a burn. Although I couldn’t help but laugh at it, unable to stop myself from saying,

“Yes, my mistress is certainly blunt and to the point, but I find it freeing, do you not?”

“And what pray tell, do you find freeing, Miss Williams?” he asked, and thankfully I could see the slight smirk playing at his lips.

“The ability to speak one’s mind and the freedom it brings to a conversation… nowhere to hide,” I added with my own smirk. Again, his grin gave me hope when he remarked back,

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