A Little Bit Sinful(70)

She frowned. “This is infinitely more important than that.” When he didn’t immediately agree to her going, she popped her fists on her hips. “Take me or I’ll simply follow you there,” she said defiantly.

“Why do you care so much about this?” he asked. He asked the question before he thought better of it. He wanted her to say that she cared about him, but he knew he’d never hear those words from her. She’d married him because she hadn’t had another option.

“You saved me, helped me, I should like to return the favor.”

“That is the only reason?”

“Should there be another?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted, all innocence and loveliness.

He shook his head. “Are you wearing that?”

She looked down at her muted green gown and nodded.

“Come then,” he said. He assisted her into their carriage. “You will have to follow closely behind me and be quiet. I’d like to get in and out of there without alerting them to our presence.”

“Obviously,” she said. When he looked at her with raised brows she shrugged. “Else we would be going during the day. I suspected you intended to sneak in. Are we to pose as guests?”

“Not anything so obvious,” he said. “We are slipping inside and down to the basement area. If we are seen—” He shook his head. “I don’t want to think about what happens if we’re seen.” If that happened, he’d be lucky if they weren’t arrested.

The ride to Manchester House was relatively quick as the late hour made for mostly empty streets. When they arrived, he helped Clarissa down to the street.

Confusion crossed her features; she looked around them. “Where are we?”

“At the back of Manchester House. We can’t very well go in the front door.”

She grinned. “No, I don’t suppose we can. Makes perfect sense.” She motioned for him to go on. “Proceed. I shall follow closely.”

And she did. They crept into the alleyway behind the hotel and up to the door at the back. “Okay, stay close,” he said. They went up to the door and he tried the handle. “Locked,” he said. He hadn’t expected anything different, which was why he’d brought supplies for such a thing. He retrieved the tool tools from his pocket and stuck them in the keyhole and finagled them around.

“How did you learn how to do that?” she asked.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “They teach this at Eton.”

She rolled her eyes.

There was a clicking noise and then he opened the door. He pocketed the tools and peeked inside the door. The darkened room appeared empty. He motioned for her to follow him inside.

There was no way to light a candle until they were down in the basement area, so they’d have to do their best in the dark here. They stood for a moment allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Justin took a step forward. They appeared to be in a corridor that led to an enormous kitchen on one side and a pantry on the other.

“We need to find stairs that go downward,” he whispered.

She nodded. The first floor was large. They found parlors and a library, and eventually wound their way back to the lobby they were in the other day.

“There have to be stairs,” he said.

“We should have asked Lady Manchester,” she said.

Justin stepped around the counter where the Lady Manchester’s cousin had stood. Behind there he found a door. “Chrissy,” he said with a nod.

She came around to meet him. They stepped through the door, which opened into a room that appeared to be a private office. A quick survey of the space showed another door at the far end. Justin opened it and there found a staircase that led downward.

“Finally,” Justin said. He grabbed Clarissa’s hand and together they descended into the darkness. Once Justin reached solid floor, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a candle and match. He struck it and the flame hissed to life. He lit the candle and the small area around them illuminated.

It wasn’t an overly large space and filled mostly with boxes.

Clarissa stepped around him. “Shall we get started?” She stepped over to one of the boxes and pulled off the lid. Justin came over to meet her. Inside they found several of the books similar to the book kept at the counter upstairs, the ledger book where guests were logged in. She opened the book on top, but it was from 1872.

“There must be one book for each year,” he said. “Thank goodness for good record keeping.” He moved over to another box and opened it. The first book he came to was 1857. “Getting closer.”