Her aunt gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "Very well. If we're to steal into Somersby's study, then I had better get my pistols. We may have to shoot our way out if we're caught."
Nicola's eyes rounded in surprise. "You carry loaded pistols?"
"Always. And they are at your service. Your uncle keeps two hidden on his person at all times, too. Just say the word."
"Thank you. I hadn't expected … "
"We may be old, but there's life left in us yet. In truth, your uncle has been feeling out of sorts lately. This adventure is just the thing to revive his spirit." There was a twinkle of determination in her aunt's eyes, almost as though she were looking forward to a fight. Nicola had heard tales of her aunt and uncle's exploits in their youth, but it was hard to imagine any of it was true. They were a sweet, white-haired couple who doted on their nephews and nieces, hardly the sort to fight bare-fisted, or clash swords, or shoot anyone.
Yet, her aunt had just told her that she'd run away from her own wedding and had fought her uncle as he'd dragged her to the altar. They had also been complicit in her plot to abduct Julian … for her brother's own good, of course. He had married Rose because of it, so all had ended happily. No one was ever meant to get hurt.
Nor did anyone get hurt.
But this was different.
Her aunt stepped away from the door. "Stay close to me, Nicola. We'll grab my pistols and then make our way to Somersby's study."
Nicola was eager to start the search. The man was hiding some deep, dark secret, but what was it? Finding that out would give her the upper hand in their dealings, which were bound to be unpleasant. If he had concocted a plot against someone close to her, she was going to foil it.
But who was the object of his loathing? Her uncle? Her brother? Someone not related to her?
She did not like being used as a pawn, and if he thought she'd meekly accept her role, he was sorely mistaken. Proof had to be in here somewhere and she was going to find it. Then she'd hand it over to John. He'd know what to do with it.
Yes, John would help.
He'd take over and keep them out of the nasty affair as best he could. Despite her aunt's bravado, she and her uncle were no longer young and spry. They might be injured if any shooting was involved. "If we do find something," Nicola said in a whisper as they stepped out of her bedchamber and peered down the empty hall, "we shall quietly hand it over to John and let him do what is needed. Agreed?"
Her aunt frowned.
"Say yes, Aunt Bess. This is as daring as we ought to get. I don't want a direct confrontation with Somersby, not while we're in his home. If that means I must agree to the betrothal to throw him off the scent, I'll do it. Once his sordid dealings are brought to light, we'll be able to end the betrothal with little consequence to my reputation or uncle's purse."
After what seemed an interminable length of time, her aunt gave in and nodded. "Agreed. Do you have any idea what we're searching for?"
Nicola sighed in relief. "No, not specifically. A clue as to the identity of the person he means to hurt. Anything that smells illegal. Anything, really. Just promise me that you'll be careful, Aunt Bess. This is a dangerous undertaking and we aren't even certain what we'll find or what we're up against."
"I'll behave. But I want the same promise from you, Nicola. And if we're going to pretend to be searching for a lost locket, then you had better not have it dangling about your neck. It's the lamest excuse you've ever concocted, but I can't think of any better at the moment." Her aunt turned her around and unfastened the clasp to the necklace she was wearing. "I'll hold on to it for now. This way, if you're caught, I can pretend I've found it." She tucked it into the sleeve of her gown.
They walked downstairs and made their way toward Somersby's study without incident. No one was about. The servants were in the front rooms busily preparing for this evening's party. The other guests were resting in their chambers.
Nicola was about to enter the study, but her aunt held her back a moment. "Child, must I teach you everything? Knock first. If he's in there, he'll know immediately that we are up to something if we steal in unannounced."
Her aunt was right.
Nicola sighed and knocked on the door. "No answer." She knocked a little louder, just to be cautious. "I think we are clear. Let's go in. Search through all his business papers first. It seems a logical place to start. But be careful to put everything back in its proper order. He mustn't know we've been going through them."
Her aunt followed her in. "What a shame about the marquis. He's such a nice-looking man. Too bad he turned out to be such a toad."
Nicola cast her a mirthless smile. "Let's hope he is nothing worse."
"Indeed." Her aunt pulled out one of her hairpins and straightened it flat. "You sort through his papers. I'm going to look for a locked drawer. Or a secret drawer. Or a locked secret drawer. Those are the best. They always contain the dirtiest secrets."
Nicola's eyes rounded in surprise. "Aunt Bess, tell me truly. Were you a spy in your younger days?"
Her aunt ignored her, too busy searching under Somersby's desk. "Aha, what do we have here?"
Nicola heard the click of a lock and then a soft thud as something fell to the floor. She crawled under the desk with her aunt. "It's a book. No, a diary of some sort. Maybe more of a ledger, for these appear to be financial entries of a sort."
"A diary and a ledger all in one? We've just struck gold." Her aunt's eyes brightened and she had a satisfied grin on her face. "Those always hold the best secrets."
"But I can't make out any of the words. It's in a code of some sort." Nicola's expression turned thoughtful. "What do you think he's hiding?"
CHAPTER 4
THICK CLOUDS OBSCURED the stars, and the night held the crisp chill of impending snow as John rode to the Somersby lodge. The glow of lanterns in the distance and the scent of smoke from a hickory fire helped guide him toward the imposing house. He and Jordan rode in silence, the leathery creak of their saddles and the soft clip-clop of their horses' hooves upon the cold, hard earth being the only sounds to fill the air. But as they approached the lodge, the sound of laughter and general revelry reached their ears.
"We won't be staying long," John told the young groom who had run up to attend to their horses when they reached the lodge. "Keep our mounts at the ready."
Jordan cast him a frown. "Och, I'm still not certain I like this plan."
"Why are you grumbling? We've put Somersby's ruffians out of commission. If I know Nicola, she's already made plans to leave. We are only here to make certain Somersby doesn't attempt to stop her. We may have nothing to do but enjoy the party."
"I'm not grumbling," Jordan muttered. "Scots never grumble."
John laughed.
He tossed the lad a coin to make certain their horses would be at hand if they needed to make a fast escape, and although he may have appeared casual, he was busy taking everything in. Only two footmen stood beside the front door to attend to guests arriving in carriages. The carriages, he noted, were then taken by their drivers to a rough-hewn building just down the road. No doubt it was the lodge's own carriage house. The conveyances would be held out of the way until their owners called for them.
"Only two footmen," John muttered as he and Jordan entered the lodge.
"I noticed. I'll scout the card room," Jordan said. "You take the salon. I'll join you in there shortly."
John was immediately swallowed up by the crush of guests as he entered the salon, but since he was taller than most, he was able to see over their heads with relative ease. He needed to find Nicola. The party was well under way and she had to be here … somewhere.
He began to walk through the room with no obvious purpose in mind.
"Bainbridge, how was your hunting today?" said an acquaintance who was also an avid sportsman.
"Good, Willoughby. I bagged five." Of course, the five were Somersby's men and not game birds, but it had been a good result. Those scurrilous villains had been well and truly caught by him and Jordan, their intended prey.
He continued his casual stroll, his gaze resting on every young woman with auburn hair, but none of them were Nicola. Where was she? He eased upon spotting Lord and Lady Darnley chatting with friends in a corner of the salon.
His jaw clenched when he realized Nicola was not with them.
Bollocks.
Where was she?
He hid his concern, for he was being followed by several of Somersby's footmen. They must have been instructed to keep a close watch on him. Perhaps they'd been told to lure him out of the room and finish the job their cohorts had failed to accomplish.