She fluttered her eyes at him. “I’ll remember that promise. Check those drawers for loose panels, please. I’ll do the same here.”
All of the drawers and cubbies were of the same sizes and dimensions. The construction was solid. There was no hidden compartment.
“It was a good idea,” Elizabeth said, dejected. “I was so sure I was right.”
“Maybe youareright,” said Stephen. He pulled a magnifying glass from his pocket and began to walk around the tea cabinet slowly, hunching and squinting in concentration. “We need to find a button. A lever. A spring-release valve.”
“This is a tea cabinet, not one of your contraptions.”
“Not one of mine, no. But that doesn’t mean—”
“The china!” Carefully, Elizabeth placed all four cups and saucers aside, revealing an intricately carved, three-panel surface beneath, styled like vines and flowers. “Why hide a shelf this beautiful behind rows of cups and saucers?”
“Because it’s a shelf. In a tea cabinet.” He felt less brilliant by the second. “Perhaps you’re right. This is ordinary furniture, not one of my contraptions.”
“Don’t give up. If you saw something that made you pause…” Elizabeth ran her finger across the raised dips and whorls that made up the leaves and petals of the stunning display. “Look! Only one flower thorns, and it possesses exactly one. Strange, no?”
She touched it with the tip of her finger—and the mahogany thorn immediately sank into the background. She jerked her finger away.
As soon as the pressure was gone, the center panel sprang open, flying away from the thorn on two hinges and revealing a narrow hidden compartment beneath. It was just large enough to slide a book into—or an important document.
“I told you all we needed was a spring-release valve,” Stephen chortled.
Elizabeth eased two fingers into the cubbyhole. “I feel…parchment.”
“Is it another clue?”
“It’s tied with string. Give me a minute.” Elizabeth snapped the thread with her dagger, then carefully opened the hidden document. After checking the date at the top of the page, Elizabeth read aloud, “‘I, Arminia Southridge, Countess of Densmore, possessed of sound mind and body—’”
“You found the will and testament!” Stephen gaped at her. “I can’t believe it’s really over. No battle royal. No Reddington. Castle Harbrook finally belongs to Miss Oak.”
Elizabeth turned the paper over with a frown. “I found the will, but no deed. I suppose it doesn’t matter. We have the proof we were looking for. Reddington is owed nothing.” She handed Stephen the document and let out a long-suffering sigh. “How I wanted to beat him at his own game. We would have emerged victorious.”
“Wedidemerge victorious.” Stephen scanned the testament with a mixture of pride and dread. “My aunt’s will could not be clearer. Miss Oak is the full, sole, and legal owner.”
“And we didn’t even need your useless cousin.”
Stomach sinking, he gave a wan smile. He’d been afraid every night would be their last night together. He was finally right.
Elizabeth had achieved the impossible. Stephen had failed to do the same. Their courtship was over as abruptly as it had begun.
Stephen handed her the will. “Congratulations. Shall we give His Grace the devastating news?”
She brightened. “Ooh, let’s do it on paper. Then I can shoot it at him with an arrow. That might be the only way to get through to his black heart.”
Horse hooves and carriage wheels sounded outside the castle.
Every muscle in Stephen’s body tensed. “Good Lord, that was impeccable timing. Do you have your arrows ready? Reddington’s cold black heart is waiting.”
Elizabeth rushed over to the closest window and let out a whoop of joy. “It’s my family!”
Oh. Stephen had been afraid of that. He joined her at the window. Hawks circled ominously overhead. He had never seen so many in one place. It felt like a harbinger.
By the time they arrived on the front lawn, the Wynchesters had descended from their trio of carriages. He recognized each of them from Elizabeth’s descriptions of their appearances and personalities.
There were Tommy and Philippa, each easily identifiable. Philippa, a pale white cloud wrapped in a storm of lace, and Tommy, fair and lanky with short brown hair and men’s trousers.
Next were athletic Graham, with his golden-brown skin and floppy black curls, and his wife, Kuni, with her long black braids, dark brown skin, and bright pink pelisse that presumably hid a collection of daggers.
