She bristled at the thought. She would go mad. One bleak day would bleed into the rest, and she'd have nothing to live for. No adventure. No passion. Nothing. Just fear.
She stomped toward the door. Charlotte would not settle for that kind of life. She may be confined to the property, but that didn't mean she had to stay in her room.
This was a house party, and there were abundant activities. Until the next outing was announced, she'd read in the library. Alone.
But first, she had to tell her mother the headache she'd pleaded was gone.
She exited her bedroom, her heart racing as she glanced down the empty hall. Anyone could be lurking in the shadows. It didn't bother her most of the time. Generally, there were plenty of people around. Complete solitude was rare.
"Good morning," she murmured to her mother, kissing her lightly talced cheek after entering the parlor.
"I'm glad to see you're up, dear. Come join us. Lady Norland was just telling me about her estate not far from here."
The woman's smile wobbled. "Not my estate. Once my dear Robert died, it was passed to his heir. Offspring from his first marriage. But it was a place I enjoyed visiting from time to time when he wasn't fulfilling his diplomatic duties for the queen."
Lady Pembroke, never far away from her protégé even this far out of town, harrumphed. "You mustn't focus on the past, Lydia. Robert is dead, God rest his soul, but you are not. You must move on. It's time to find another husband."
Charlotte gave Lady Norland a small smile of pity. Although Lady Norland had much more freedom than Charlotte enjoyed, they were in similar positions. Lady Norland was young enough that she could easily remarry and have children. Although without a large fortune, it was unlikely she'd ever make another great match, yet she wasn't entirely plain looking. Without her spectacles and tight coiffure, Lady Norland would be much more appealing. The older woman might yet wed for love. But Lady Norland wasn't a close enough friend that Charlotte felt she could impart an opinion. A fine line separated trying to help and giving offense.
Charlotte smiled regretfully to her mother. "I'm afraid I cannot stay."
"No?"
"I skipped breakfast, and hope to find a light repast in the dining room. Then I thought I'd read in the library after."
Her mother patted Charlotte's hand. "You do look a little pale. Nourishment would do you good."
After conversation resumed, Charlotte ducked out. Freedom. With no other obligations, Charlotte had the rest of the morning and early afternoon to read before she'd be forced to mingle.
At this hour, most of the guests contented themselves with games in the parlor or walks in the garden. Even with the opened windows, the library was dim, but it appealed to her. With books piled to the ceiling, it hinted at abundant secrets.
She browsed the titles, but didn't find any that immediately struck her fancy. Sighing, she twisted toward the fireplace. Her head cocked to the side as she studied it.
Plenty of homes had secret doors that led to safe rooms or tunnels. Why not Derek's? It seemed that if secret doorways were to be found, it would be in a spy's home.
She marched to the mantle, looking over her shoulder before pushing and pulling objects on top. There might be a lever somewhere.
After Charlotte displaced the last candlestick, she huffed. This was ridiculous. Why on earth would the fireplace move anyway? Would someone need an escape after reading a good book?
She snickered and leaned unladylike against the mantle.
A click popped under her arm, and her breath whooshed out as the cream-marbled fireplace rotated, enclosing her into a new room. She regained her balance, and glanced at the massive cherry wood desk in front of her.
It worked! She'd actually found her first secret passageway. With how many times she tossed figurines and candlesticks at other estates, she'd never found a door.
Paper rustled across the room, and hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
"You've been busy. No one has ever found that passage." Derek folded his newspaper, eyeing her with appreciation from a large chair in the corner.
Her mouth fell open as she realized which room she'd invaded.
Derek's private study.
"I am so, so sorry."
"A spy should never apologize."
"Oh! But I'm not!" She squeezed her eyes shut. She could just die now.
"No?" He stood slowly from his chair, watching her with an edge that both thrilled and terrified her.
"I had no idea I'd end up here."
"And where exactly did you think you'd end up?"
She shifted and mumbled, "A secret tunnel." Could she sound any more stupid? Secret tunnel, indeed. Why had she ever thought exploring was a good idea?
He stalked toward her. "Well, then. Since you weren't able to find your tunnel, I think that's something we should remedy."
Her head jerked up. "Really?"
He smothered a grin.
Oh, sugar lumps. He was laughing at her. She really couldn't blame him. If their positions were reversed, she'd be laughing too. "You're going to hold this against me, aren't you?"
His eyes rounded with innocence. "I have no idea what you mean."
But he knew exactly what she meant, and Charlotte knew it. Her sense of adventure occasionally got her into trouble, but most of the time, she wasn't caught in the act. She hated feeling foolish.
He brushed past her toward a towering bookshelf, heavy with volumes. He glanced over his shoulder before reaching for a book. "You coming?"
"Coming where?" When a grin crested his lips, Charlotte sucked in a breath. A lock of dark hair fell over his brow, transforming him from a proper aristocrat into someone dangerous. Someone daring. She was drawn to him, to what he offered.
"To spy." He pulled the top of the book and the bookshelf swung out on oiled hinges, revealing a passage. "If you're not afraid, that is."
Her heart sped up as she stepped toward the musty entrance. Finally, a real adventure. But as she looked down the dark tunnel, she realized the danger didn't lie in the silent stone walls, it lay with the man beside her. "Let's go."
Chapter 10
Derek's eyes adjusted to the dark. He didn't need light. He'd haunted these passages since childhood. He took Charlotte's arm, pulling her to the right to avoid a jagged edge in the stone. He'd skinned his knee as a boy and never forgot it. Charlotte needn't experience the same learning curve.
"I can hardly see." Charlotte's voice was hushed, muffled almost.
"Let me guide you," he whispered in her ear. A shiver racked through her body, vibrating his hand. Her reaction to his nearness sparked his own.
He led her through a maze of halls. Skylights dotted along some of the passages, but there weren't enough to fully illuminate their way. More often than not, the shadows swallowed the rays of light, allowing darkness to reign. That darkness had always benefited him.
He ruled the dark. It cloaked him, protected him. He basked in it as any creature of the night would. He was a nightmare. Not for the innocent, but for those who preyed on the weak, who hurt others for their own selfish gain. Those were the ones he went after.
Having Charlotte here was a glimmer of sunshine. She lifted his soul with her beauty and goodness.
He'd never allowed another besides Henry in these halls, but there was something about her that pushed him to bring her here. To show her what he truly was. To show her a side of him that he'd never given another.
"Where are we going?" she whispered.
"You'll see. You're about to receive your first lesson as a spy." He slowed their steps. "Here we are. In a moment, I'll open a hole in the wall. You'll need to be silent once I do as any sound you make will carry. The first rule of a spy is to never be noticed. Never draw attention to yourself. If you're on duty, your job is to blend in. You don't exist. Understood?" A silky strand of hair brushed his face as she nodded. "Observe and listen."
He unlocked the latch holding the small door. A ray of light sliced the hallway, and soft tones filtered through the opening.
She jerked when his lips touched the shell of her ear. "Look."
She pushed up onto her toes, leaned forward, and peered through the hole. His hand rested upon her trim waist. But what fascinated him was the tight blue ribbon that accentuated her curve. His gaze moved from her middle to the lush curves below, and silently cursed his body's reaction. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.
She was here, in a place that had given him the most solitude in his life, the most loneliness. But with her by his side, everything was different. He hungered for her.