Page 41 of Stolen By the Rogue
Thank goodness you can see what the suspense is doing to me. You understand me better than most other people in my past have done.
When they made love, she had noticed that he possessed an almost innate appreciation of her needs and desires. This was in stark contrast to Pietro, who had taken the better part of two months to finally discover how to bring Jane to climax.
Two long months during which I foolishly convinced myself it was all my fault.
She stirred from her musings and knelt beside George.
He handed her the chisel and mallet before pointing to the brick next to the hole he had created. “Give that a crack or two and then I will try and shift it.”
Thunk. Thunk.On the third strike, a large piece of mortar gave way. George leaned in and pulled it free. Jane moved the chisel farther along the brick and gave it another hard strike. More joinery came away.
George wriggled the brick before removing it. He shifted closer and peered into the hole. “There is a gap between here and the outer wall of the chimney. But there is not one behind the first brick we removed. That indicates to me that something has been bricked into the back of the fireplace and those new bricks packed in around it.”
The anticipation was almost too much to bear. Jane nodded. “Let’s keep going.”
Ten minutes later, they had taken another half-dozen of the chocolate-colored bricks from the fireplace, leaving only one of them untouched. Tears threatened. If there had been a box of treasures, they should have found it by now.
George chipped around the edge of the last brick and yanked it free. It fell onto the floor and broke in two. “Oh,” he murmured.
“Bricks don’t normally do that do they?” she asked.
George picked up one half of the brick and examined it before handing it to Jane. “The middle is hollow, and there is something stuck in it. I think you should be the one to take it out.”
She frowned as she caught a glimpse of a piece of folded yellowed paper. This was not a cache of jewels or gold.
Oh no.
With a sinking heart, Jane carefully withdrew the paper then unfolded it. There were a number of lines of writing at the top, all of which blurred with her tears.
“What does it say?” asked George, his voice still heavy with hope.
“It’s another of King Charles’s bloody letters offering to give Jane Whorwood a good, hard ride in bed.” She slumped to the floor, screwing up the piece of paper in her hand. “Why the devil would she have gone to all that trouble just to hide a love letter? It makes no sense at all,” she grumbled.
George picked up the other half of the brick, giving it a glance before tossing it aside. “Who knows? Perhaps she thought it could harm the royal cause if their affair ever came to light.”
“Perhaps, but if that was the case, she could have simply burned it.”
He offered her his hand, but Jane shook her head. She didn’t want comfort. Even the thought of being held in George’s arms couldn’t stir her interest.
There was no room left for consolation in her heart. It was already full to the brim with the shards of broken disappointment.
Chapter Twenty-Six
George had dealt with many dangerous and awkward situations in his life, but a disillusioned Jane was beyond even his well-honed set of skills. She sat across from him at the table, staring at the piece of paper for the best part of twenty minutes, refusing to talk.
She had pinned her whole future on the possibility of finding the treasure. He couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling right now.
“There are other places we haven’t looked yet,” he offered.
She lifted her head and gave him a weary look—one which said his efforts to placate her were in vain. They had both gotten their hopes up this afternoon. The moment the brick had fallen apart in his hands, George had sensed the familiar rush of adrenaline. He had welcomed the dry sensation in his mouth. The lure of hidden treasure had him firmly in its grip.
But you didn’t spend all those long hours in the British museum searching for the letters, and you have never been alone like her.
Despite his best intentions, he too had placed all his hopes and dreams for a different life in that one piece of paper.
And then nothing.
All they had to show for their long hours of hard work was a note from a reckless king seeking to gain sexual favors from one of his female courtiers. That, and a ruin of a house.
