Page 11 of The Viscount's Code
“That is absurd.”
He looked at her, his eyes brighter than she had seen them before, and she realized that he was excited about this – as excited as Lord Whitehall seemed to get about anything.
“So is a riddle and the thought that a code could lead to treasure,” he said.
Hope could only sigh in defeat. “I suppose that is true.”
“What do you suppose the code might be?” he asked, looking at her, and for the first time Hope saw the color of his eyes – a dark grey that reminded her of a storm cloud, one that threatened rain showers but also brought with it the fresh smell that promised a green beauty to follow.
“P-pardon?” she said, forgetting his question.
His lips firmed into a line, and she was aware that he was a rather impatient man, but what was to be expected when he stared at her with such intensity?
“I asked what you thought the numbers might be. It’s your father’s desk. It would likely be something meaningful to him.”
“It could be,” she said, rubbing her forehead distractedly as she thought. “Unless, as you say, it was not he who hid the book.”
“Did you know your grandfather well?” he asked, and Hope shook her head.
“No. He was always rather distracted, never spent much time with us, as would be expected, for we were so young. I did, however, know my grandmother.”
“Were she and your grandfather a love match?”
“I am not certain, actually.”
“What would have meaning, then?”
Hope paced around the room. “The year of her birth? The year they were wed? The year my father was born?”
Lord Whitehall nodded. “Let’s try the latter. It is what every nobleman wants, is it not? A son?”
“Is that what you want?” she surprised herself by asking, as much as she obviously equally shocked him.
“Let’s stay on topic.”
“Very well,” she said, her face warming in embarrassment. “1760.”
Hope watched, fascinated, as he lay down on his back under the desk, reaching up and sliding a panel forward. She was so intrigued, she couldn’t help herself from lying down on the floor next to him. He turned his head to the side to stare at her for a moment, his face but a breath away from hers, before turning back to his task.
He slid the next panel forward, and Hope couldn’t help but watch his hands with fascination. He had long, strong fingers, ones that did remind her of a musician’s.
She waited, not realizing for a moment that she was holding her breath, until she nearly gasped in need of it.
Finally, he slid the last panel open, and a whirring sound arose, followed by a click.
They had done it.
CHAPTER5
Anthony felt the rare thrill of elation wash through him when he heard the click.
They had guessed right. And now the desk was going to reveal to them exactly what he was looking for.
He turned to look at Hope, seeing an equally enthralled expression on her face, and they shared a smile of triumphant joy. He was so captivated by her angelic face that he nearly forgot what they had just achieved – until he heard the thunk, and he scrambled out from underneath the desk to find a panel had opened on the side of it, revealing a hidden chamber – and the book he had been looking for.
“Here it is,” he said in wonder.
“That was a great amount of effort to hide a book,” Hope said in amazement, coming to stand beside him as he reached down and picked up the desk’s offering.
