Page 82 of Tender Blackguard

“Beyond this door is the riskiest part. We’ll have to be silent and swift as we make our way down the hall. Understand?”

The two maids still looked terrified, but they nodded.

When Hale looked to Lark, she gave a short shake of her head. “I’m staying.”

“Like hell you are,” he denied in a low growl.

“I need to search this room first,” she whispered. “There might not be another chance.”

“Turner’s already scouring the place. Your job is done.”

“And your job is to see these women to safety,” she urged. “Once I’ve looked through the desk, I’ll be right behind you. Now, go,” she said, practically giving him a shove toward the door.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered harshly. “Lord save me from willful females.” Turning to the maids, who’d been watching their argument with wary concern, he muttered in obvious annoyance, “Come on, then.”

Lark added her assurance. “He’ll see you to safety.”

Hale peeked into the hallway first then turned to give Lark one last scowling glance before he gestured for the maids to follow him through the door. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Lark rushed to the desk.

As quietly and as quickly as possible, she searched the drawers, checking for false bottoms and hidden compartments. When she came across a clothbound ledger in one drawer, a rush of hopeful excitement claimed her until she paged through it and saw that it was nothing more than an account of gambling loans issued by Lowndes to various named guests. At worst, it only proved an illegal gaming club. Certainly nothing the authorities would care much about.

There had to be more.

The building might have been purchased by Dryden, but it had been made quite clear to her earlier that Lowndes was in charge of things. And he took his role very seriously. A man like him would want to keep anything vital to their illegal activities close at hand.

Her recent experience with secret passages had her checking every nook and cranny, every wall panel, anything that seemed slightly out of place. But the office was small, with minimal clutter. She was beginning to feel like her instincts might have been wrong when she noticed a slightly dulled spot on the polished floor in front of a liquor cabinet. Though one could assume the lord just liked his brandy, Lark noted the fine layer of dust on the decanters and glassware.

Running her fingers over the cabinet, she felt a spot on the underside of a shelf that had been worn smooth. When she crouched down to take a closer look, she discovered a tiny oval-shaped hole.

A hidden lock mechanism?

Sorting through her tools, she found one that would fit, and after only a little effort, she heard a satisfying snick. At the same time, the entire cabinet released from the wall on silent hinges. Her heart racing, Lark swung the cabinet open to find a hidden staircase. Interesting but not what she was looking for. Fighting frustration, she turned to examine the backside of the cabinet itself. Noting a notch along one side of the back panel, she realized it opened to reveal a small hidden cupboard. Inside were several stacks of pound notes and an exact replica of the loan ledger from the desk. Except this book contained an entirely different sort of accounting.

Lark discovered detailed transactions going back several years listing names, dates, payments, and even the physical descriptions of women who’d been sold and to whom and the households from which they’d been procured.

Her heart pounded. It was everything they needed!

The ledger exposed each of the gentlemen involved in the operation and every one of the guests who’d participated in their unlawful and immoral business venture. She had to get it to the authorities waiting outside. It was more than enough to justify a raid and the necessary arrests.

She was just about to close the cabinet with the intention of fleeing swiftly after Hale and the two maids when she heard a footfall in the hall beyond the door. Reacting without thought, she stepped inside the concealed stairway and swung the cabinet back in place—making sure not to latch it in case she couldn’t get it opened again—just as the office door opened. Holding her breath, afraid to move in case someone heard her, she listened as a long stride crossed the room. Whoever it was headed straight toward the connecting sitting room and the closet where she and the other maids had been secured.

By now, he’d have seen that the door was unguarded. Another moment, and he’d know the women had escaped.

The cursed shout echoed from the other room. Then more swift footfalls through the office and a harshly muttered “Damn Warfield” before the steps retreated down the hall.

Lark immediately pushed the cabinet open but then hesitated as fear held her still in indecision. She’d recognized Lowndes’s voice, and the way he’d muttered Warfield’s name terrified her. But no matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn’t stick around to ensure the marquess would be all right. She had to get the evidence she’d discovered into the proper hands.

The office door had been left open and Lowndes could return at any moment. She obviously wouldn’t be able to leave that way, which meant she’d have to risk the hidden staircase and hope it led to another exit from the building.

But before she fled, something compelled her to make one quick swap. It was a small thing, but it might be enough to throw Lowndes off. At the very least, it might buy the marquess some time until the raid started.

Finishing quickly, she stepped into the hidden stairway once again and closed the cabinet behind her with a decided click. The only way now was forward.

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