“Shush. It’s only a rodent.”
“Only a rodent!”
She swore that under no circumstances would she ever return to this awful place. They finally reached the entrance to the library.
“Go on then, open it,” Gerard said.
Her heart fluttered. “I don’t know how to open it from this side.”
“There you see, Harry? What if someone cornered you in here, or if the door jammed?” He moved her aside none too gently and began to feel down the wall to the left of the door. “There’s a lever here.”
When the panel opened they stepped into the library and it closed behind them with a clunk.
Harriett breathed more easily. She gestured at the desk. “Look at this mess. And Mama had the servants cleaning in here for days.”
He walked over and held the candle up. “There’s nothing here but household accounts. Really, Harry, you’ll get us both…” He broke off mid-sentence at the sound of footsteps approaching in the corridor. Blowing out the candle, he unceremoniously pushed Harriett to the floor behind a walnut cabinet and dropped down beside her.
This time, crushed against Gerard’s chest, Harriett knew better than to try to speak.In case it became imperative, she moved her mouth close to his ear. His hair felt soft, the strands tickling her chin. She heard the door open, and candlelight brightened the room. Fortunately, the tall cabinet hid them from the man who’d entered the room. His muffled footsteps crossed the carpet, followed by a rustle as papers were rifled through. Desk drawers were dragged open and banged shut. Minutes passed. Harriett discovered she’d been holding her breath. The fear that she would give their hiding place away tightened her chest. She managed a soft gasp, stirring Gerard’s hair. He instinctively squeezed her waist, but this only made things worse. She breathed in and out through her nose, pressed her lips together firmly, and prayed.
The man uttered a curse and slammed the doors of the cabinet. Books landed on the floor, as he grew increasingly frantic. “Damn you to hell, Harrison.”
Harriett froze at his Irish accent, O’Hara, the butler. “I should have tortured you, you old fool. You’ve taken your secret to the grave. It can’t be here. It must be in your bedchamber.” The library door opened and closed, turning the room black as pitch again.
“O’Hara!” Gerard whispered. “He had me fooled.”
“It must have been him in the stable that night.”
“No, that was Madoc after a fox that has been killing the chickens.”
“You might have told me!”
“I planned to, but I didn’t want to see you, because I…. Blast, now is not the time.” He stood and extended his hand to her. “Let me help you up.”
“I can manage, thank you,” Harriett scrambled shakily to her feet. All thoughts of seducing Gerard had disappeared with the first wave of fear. “If we could just light a candle.”
“No, I don’t want him spooked. I have to ride for the Parish constable and you must return to your chamber.”
“I’m not leaving now.”
“Yes, you are, young Harry. I want you out of this havey-cavey business.” He gave her a quick hug. “I was wrong to doubt you, you’re a grand girl.”
Harriett felt an uncomfortable twinge of shame. She must be shockingly loose in the haft to consider doing something so immoral and filled with self-interest, which might have hurt her sister. She doubted that she could have become a lady-bird, even for one night. “Let me come with you.”
“Not likely.” He lit another candle and handed it to her, then opened the library door, peering out. “It’s clear. Go back to bed.Hurry.You won’t run into the blighter, he’ll use the servants’ stairs, and Harrison’s bedchamber is in the opposite wing to the guest’s.”
“Well if I do meet him, I’ll plant him a facer,” she said furiously and heard Gerard’s soft chuckle as she slipped from the room. She crept up the marble staircase vowing it to be the last time she roamed this house at night. Gaining her room, she struggled out of her clothes. She would have to bribe Sarah not to say anything to Mama about the sad state of her gown. Snuffing out the candle she stared into the darkness, and shivered, recalling the violence in O’Hara’s voice. He would strike down anyone in his way. She couldn’t rest until she knew Gerard was safe. She sniffed as a few tears trickled onto her cheeks. In a few days, their adventure was at an end and she would be back in dreary London.
♥♥♥
After the constable arrived and arrested O’Hara in his bedchamber, Gerard’s pulse beat in a steady and calm rhythm for the first time since Harrison died. O’Hara had failed to get his hands on details of the operation and the British spies working in the area, were safe. O’Hara would have been instructed to kill everyone on that list. Not only would it have cut off the route and stopped the flow of information, it would have exposed Colquhoun Grant who had infiltrated one of Napoleon’s commands in Portugal. These dispatches placed in the folder in the garden and passed on to Wellington were of vital importance to the outcome of the war. Gerard would go to London and offer to continue this work, until he was no longer needed.
When the constable shackled O’Hara’s hands and took him to the library to question him, Gerard searched the Irishman’s room for any evidence which might draw suspicion on Harrison. At the bottom of O’Hara’s bureau, under his shirts, was a green uniform with a yellow collar. Gerard bundled it up and took it with him. This would go with him to London. He needed orders concerning O’Hara and would visit Mrs. Green. If he was ordered to kill O’Hara, he would be only too happy to oblige.
