That made her lips twitch.
There were diagrams he couldn’t understand and pages of writing in Hebrew and Latin.
“I don’t like this, my lord.”
“Ambrose,” he corrected again, still reading the book. “And I’m not happy about it either.”
“To me, it looks like a place where people who are dealing in things they shouldn’t come to do things they should not.”
“Agreed,” Ambrose said.
She left his side, and he instantly missed her closeness. Tilly had a scent he could pick out in a room full of women.
After putting the book back, he followed her to the altar. On one end was a candle, which she had lifted and was sniffing.She coughed and held it up for him to smell. It was pungent and heavy. If he had to say where it originated, he’d say somewhere Eastern.
Next there was a black obsidian mirror, and the last object was a dagger.
“Don’t touch that!”
“Why not?” Ambrose said as his hand hovered over the handles, which were silver and intricately engraved with markings and jewels.
“I don’t know why. I just don’t want you to.” Tilly sounded testy now.
“Thus are the workings of a woman’s mind.”
“I will take that comment to task shortly, but right now I think we need to get out of here.”
He shot her a look and saw she was scared, eyes wide, face pale.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Tilly.”
She bent slightly and reached for something, and when she straightened, in her hands were a set of shackles. “This place is used for evil, Ambrose.”
He liked the sound of his name on her lips.
“And likely still is. Come, we will see if there is another entrance or any other rooms.”
“Why do you not sound as panicked as I?” she demanded.
“I have three sisters, if I showed panic every time I felt it, they’d eviscerate me.”
He watched Tilly move toward a rug on the floor. It had markings on it he didn’t understand.
“What are you doing?”
She had bent at the waist and was lifting a fringed corner. “I want to see if there is anything under it.”
“Why do you…” His words fell away as she pulled it back and revealed a stain. To him, it looked like either a substance the color of blood or actual blood stains. Ambrose had a feeling it was the latter.
Tilly dropped to her knees before he could stop her and bent to sniff it.
“Get up at once.” He hauled her to her feet.
“That’s blood,” she whispered. “Lots of blood.”
He shackled her wrist with his hand, then picked up the lamp and headed out of the room, pulling her with him. Moving farther down the long passage, they came to the end and a narrow door. There was a lock, but it was not in place.
“Wait here. I will see where it leads.”
