The warmth that shone in his eyes was like a soothing balm to her troubled soul. “I know, but I want to help.”
As if sensing how important it was that she be involved, he said, “One, two, three.”
They lifted the end of the massive desk and moved it forward three steps before setting it back down. Going over to the other side, they did the same.
Mr. Stockton then bent down on his hands and knees and felt around the fine wool. “The indentations the wood made in the rug are here.” He motioned to a spot in front of the desk. “If we push it back to here, we should be able to see all the floor that’s been covered. Bring the candle over while I move the rug.”
Julia did as he asked and then knelt down beside him. Her stomach quivered and her fingers trembled a little. “Do you want me to hold the candle while you search the floor?”
His face was mere inches from hers. They were as close as they’d been when they were in the tree. “I trust you to do it,” she whispered.
Mr. Stockton went to work and Julia watched. He was so close she heard his breaths, caught the scent of his shaving soap and the fresh washed smell of his hair. Through the linen of his shirt she saw the firm muscles in his back working as he bent over the floor. Holding the light close to him, Julia watched his strong, sure hands skim the seams and joints of the wood. Suddenly she was imagining the palm of his hand gliding over the plane of her hip, up to her waist, and gently caressing her breasts.
“Damnation,” he whispered after a few moments. “I think I’ve found something.”
For a moment Julia felt paralyzed, but then her breath leapt in her chest. “What?”
He moved farther into the alcove of the desk where the chair would sit when pushed tight again the desk.
Julia crawled to get closer to him, bumping his shoulder with hers, letting her thigh rest against his. “Let me see.”
“Give me the candle,” he said.
She gave him the round brass holder with a shaking hand.
He took the light in one hand and with the other showed her where to touch. “Start here and follow my hand up to this point and back to here. Do you feel that?”
“The seam of the wood is raised,” she said, beginning to believe they might have found something. “How do we get the boards out so we can see if anything is inside?
He handed the candle back to her. Reaching behind him, he pulled his knife from his boot. He started knocking the blade into the seam with the hilt of his hand. The noise reverberated around the room. Julia felt as if a gong was sounding throughout the house. Her heart jumped to her throat.
“Wait. It’s so loud I’m afraid it will awaken the housekeeper or Mr. Leeds. I don’t know if they are sound sleepers.”
Garrett stopped and laid the knife down between them. He reached over and cupped her cheek with his warm hands. His touch was soothing. She wanted to melt against him and let him take this fear and burden from her.
“I’ll make as little noise as possible. It’s your choice, but I can’t break this open silently. There must be a little sound if you want to know what’s hidden beneath the boards.”
Julia didn’t know what to do. It was torture to be so close to possibly finding the evidence she needed, but the noise to get it was terrifying. What good would it do her to find the papers if the housekeeper found her? Mr. Stockton stayed calm. His hand was steady, comforting against her skin. He didn’t rush her to make a decision. It was as if he knew she had to be sure what they were doing was worth the risk they were taking. He was right. There was no way to remove a board silently.
She really had no choice. “All right,” she said. “Do what you must. I’ll leave the candle here with you and go to the door to listen for footsteps from above.”
“It’s not as loud as you think it is.” He gave her a gentle, brief kiss on her lips and then another just as short on the side of her mouth. The contact was startling but calming. Her breaths slowed.
“Everything will be fine. I’ll be as quiet as possible.” He kissed her forehead. “Now go listen from the door.”
His hand moved to the back of her neck and gently squeezed before he let her go. With her heart pounding in her ears, Julia rose and hurried over to take up her post. She unlocked the door and eased it open just enough to get her head through the space. She focused her gaze down the corridor that led to the back stairs which ended up on the servants’ floor. She inspected each shadow on all the walls so she would know if a new one appeared. Every creak and crack of wood she heard behind her made her wince in fear that someone would hear and come to investigate.
Seconds turned to minutes, but she dared not leave to see what Mr. Stockton was doing. Her eyes were dry from lack of blinking. Her chest ached from holding herself so rigidly, and her stomach felt as if it had been twisted into knots. Finally the noise stopped. There was complete silence just before she heard, “Julia, come here.”
Desperate to believe his call to her was for good news, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before slowly leaning back into the room, closing the door and securing the lock. There, in the darkened room, she could see his form clearly. He stood behind the desk, looking magnificent, powerful, and commanding, and holding a leather packet in his hand. Julia couldn’t move. Was it over? Had her search come to an end? All of a sudden her heart lurched and she rushed over to him.
“Are there documents in it?” she asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know. I thought you should be the one to open it.”
She took it in her trembling hands and knelt down near the candlelight. Mr. Stockton knelt beside her and picked up the candle, holding it close so she could see better. She quickly untied the leather strings. Moving the flap aside, she opened it and saw perhaps thirty or forty sheets of letters and documents and a ledger. Giving no thought to the ledger, she laid it to the side and started leafing through the unbound pages, reading the title of each page. Halfway through the stack the Eubury-Broadwell Company seemed to jump out at her.
“This is it,” Julia whispered, her hands trembling even more. She held it up for Mr. Stockton to see. “This is the company I heard him say he secretly owns. The one you said had an explosion. This document proves he owns it and he’s not taking responsibility for it or caring for the families of those who were killed or injured in the explosion.”
Mr. Stockton took the paper from her and glanced down. “This does seem to be a straightforward registered deed but it doesn’t have the duke’s name on it, Julia. It has Mr. Eubury’s name on it. This only proves the duke has the deed in his possession. He could merely be keeping it safe for this man.”
“What? No, no,” she said irrationally, feeling close to losing her self-confidence. “You’re wrong. You don’t understand. I know it’s the duke’s company. I heard him say this man doesn’t exist. The duke buys companies under made-up names so they can’t be traced back to him.”
Mr. Stockton’s concerned gaze swept down her face. “I believe you, but this doesn’t prove what you say, and it won’t convince anyone.”
His words rang true, but she didn’t want to believe them. Determination not to let the duke defeat her rose up inside. “Maybe it’s here in the ledger.” She thrust the other documents aside and picked up the book, certain it would contain proof he owned the secret companies. But her eyes wouldn’t focus on the first page. She turned to the second and it was the same. None of the letters or numbers made sense. It was gibberish. “I must be losing my mind,” she said, despair in her tone. She looked over at Mr. Stockton. “I can’t read it. It’s—”