Page 14 of Undercover Infidel
“Possibly. However, we won’t be busting through the rock today,” I teased, checking my watch. “We’d need proper tools and time. But it’s certainly fascinating.”
As we made our way back upstairs, I contemplated showing her the library next. I’d considered working there yesterday, before I granted her access to my ops hub.
“The library?” I suggested. “It’s adjacent to where we first met, if you recall. Before I finally decided to trust you with my real work area.”
Her lips curved into that knowing smirk I was beginning to recognize. “You mean after I bypassed your defenses and saw more than you intended?”
If there was ever someone who could break them—not the ones in my hub, but the ones I’d never let anyone get past, not even Fallon—it was the woman whose present gaze seemed to penetrate the deep recesses of my soul.
“A momentary oversight on my part,” I replied, leading the way down the corridor. “Though I’m still not convinced you didn’t have help.”
“Would it wound your pride less if I had?”
“Perhaps.”
The library doors stood open, welcoming us into a two-story chamber lined with books from floor to ceiling. A fire burned in the massive stone hearth, casting a warm glow across the leather bindings and gilded spines.
“This is magnificent,” Lex said as she took in the shelves and shelves of books. “How many volumes?”
“Around twenty thousand, though I’ve never counted. Many are first editions. The collection has been in the family for generations.”
She moved to the nearest shelf, running her fingers lightly across the spines. “Do you have historical documents as well? Records from the Jacobite period, perhaps?”
Her question sparked an idea. “We might. The family archives include journals, letters, and various documents dating back centuries.” I crossed to a section farther from the fireplace, where older volumes were kept.
For the next hour, we lost ourselves in dusty tomes and fragile manuscripts, spreading our findings across the massive oak table that dominated the center of the room. The search became almost companionable, theearlier tension I’d caused by touching her with such familiarity fading away.
“Look at this,” Lex said, gently turning the pages of a leather-bound journal dated 1744. “Your ancestor, Robert Carnegie, mentions ‘secure passages that were used to transport loyal men and supplies without detection.’”
I leaned over her shoulder, reading the faded script. “And here, he references a map kept by the monks at Glenshadow.”
“This is brilliant,” she said.
Our faces were inches apart as we examined the text. “Quite.”
She looked up suddenly, our proximity registering as her eyes met mine. Neither of us moved for a moment.
“This is proof the tunnels were used during the uprising,” she finally said, her voice slightly lower than before. “They would have been vital during the uprising. Oh!” Her face scrunched.
“What?” I repeated, straightening and putting distance between us when her subtle perfume and the warmth radiating from her body made me want to touch her far more intimately than I had earlier.
“It should’ve dawned on me when you mentioned your ancestor was deeded the land by James III. I’m usually quicker on the uptake, so to speak.”
While I didn’t say it out loud, I’d known how my family acquired the land for most of my life, yet it had never occurred to me that it so obviously meant they were affiliated with the Jacobites.
“I have another question.”
“Go on,” I said.
“Fallon abducted Sullivan and took her into the tunnels, where she, Fallon, was ultimately killed.”
I paced toward the window, watching darkness settle over the grounds. “Your question is, how did she know about them?”
Lex closed the journal. “Sullivan mentioned finding records at the monastery.”
“We should visit tomorrow to see what else they might reveal.”
The mention of Fallon had shifted the atmosphere, bringing reality crashing back into our historical treasure hunt. I found myself staring at the darkened landscape, my thoughts turning inward.
