The Viscount Always Knocks Twice by Grace Callaway

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Richard knew he’d made the right decision when, even in the dimly lit hallway, he could see Violet’s brilliant smile. It was after two in the morning, and she was waiting for him outside Monique’s bedchamber, still dressed in her pink evening gown. The light from her lamp licked the tempting mounds framed by her neckline, highlighting the shadowed crevice between.

“I wasn’t sure you would show,” she said in a whisper.

“And let you have all the fun? I think not.”

“I take back everything I ever said about you being stodgy.” Lips curved, she handed him the lamp and reached up to pluck a pair of hairpins from her coiffure. “The door is locked, but I think I can open it with this.”

“Seeing as you’re a disciple of your brother Harry, I don’t doubt your skill. But this might be easier.” He removed the master key from his pocket.

“By Golly, where did you get that?”

“I may have borrowed it when I wandered into the butler’s pantry by accident.” If he was to engage in an adventure, he liked to go prepared.

“You filched it?” She took the key from him as reverently as another miss might accept a jeweler’s box. “Jolly well done!”

He stifled a grin at her compliment.

Taking a swift look around the empty hallway, she slid the key in, turning the lock. They went inside and closed the door behind them. Richard didn’t think of himself as a fanciful sort, but an eerie stillness shrouded the room. The moonlight seeping in from a gap in the drapery was cold and sterile, adding to the tomb-like ambience.

Violet shivered.

Placing an arm around her shoulders, he said quietly, “Are you certain you want to do this?”

“We’re out of leads. I must.” In the moonlight, her profile was resolute. “I’ll start with the bed and work clockwise. Why don’t you go in the opposite direction?”

It was a sound plan, and they set off.

Several minutes passed in which they didn’t speak, absorbed in their respective tasks. He heard Violet mutter the occasional gadzooks and crumpets to herself, which added a certain lightheartedness to an otherwise grim undertaking. As he examined the assorted trifles in a desk drawer, he had a flash of recognition: life with Violet would always be this way, infused with buoyancy and humor no matter what burdens they faced.

And, by Jove, he wanted that future.

“Carlisle, I think I found something!”

Her excited whisper brought him over to where she stood before a bow-fronted wardrobe. The curved doors were open, its innards of silk and lace spilling out. She was on tiptoe, craning her neck this way and that.

She pointed to the high shelf, which was crammed with millinery. “I think I see something there, behind that bonnet, at the very back. But I can’t reach it.”

Richard removed the impeding headwear. Reaching in, his hands closed around a heavy rectangular object. He pulled it down.

It was a mahogany box, the lid inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

“It’s too big to be a jewelry chest,” Violet said eagerly. “I wonder what’s inside?”

The bed was closest, so he placed the chest on its surface.

“You do the honors,” he told her.

Her features vivid with expectation, she lifted the lid of the box, letting it fall back on its hinges. Nestled in the top tray was a green Chinoiserie silk pouch and what appeared to be a delicate gold chain. She picked up the latter, and sudden heat prickled beneath Richard’s collar.

Brow pleating, Violet held up the chain between thumb and index finger. There was a small, bejeweled clamp on each end, and they swung like twin pendulums.

“This is the strangest necklace I’ve ever seen,” she said.

He didn’t think it was a necklace. “Er, why don’t you put that back…”

She was too busy fiddling with the clamps to listen to him. “Maybe it’s broken? This is the oddest clasp. The ends don’t fit together at all.”

“Uh, Violet…”

She tossed the chain onto the bedspread and pulled out the Chinoiserie pouch. “This is heavy. I wonder what’s inside.”

Before he could stop her, she emptied the contents into her palm.

“Now what do you think these are?” She held up the two golden balls, which rolled together sensuously in her palm.

He swallowed. Twice.

“Oh, I know.” Her eyes widened.

“You, er, do?”

“It must be for a performance. Juggling or some such thing. Although they’d be dashed difficult to manage given how small they are.” She wriggled them around in her hand. “And they have the strangest weight to them…”

“You might want to stop handling those.”

“Why? Maybe I could learn to use them as Monique did.”

Christ. Try as he might, he couldn’t block the image from forming in his mind. He went rock-hard.

“Oh, look. There’s another tray beneath this one.” Idly jiggling the pleasure balls in one hand, Violet stuck the other in the box. “More circus equipment, perhaps? This one feels oddly shaped…”

She yanked out a jade dildo.

Richard’s every nerve caught fire. Lust paralyzed him as he saw her gaze travel over the large carved phallus clasped within her slim fingers, from its bulbous tip down its vein-girdled shaft, all the way to the smooth bulging balls. Recognition dawned across her expressive features—which he might have found comical had he any blood left in his brain. Every last ounce of it had plummeted to his groin, his erection throbbing with agonizing intensity.

Violet let out a gasp, instinctively flinging the dildo away from her. It bounced onto the bed. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten the balls in her other hand and lost her grip on them. They dropped to the floor, hitting the boards with dangerously loud thuds and rolling beneath the bed.

“Gadzooks, I—I have to get those!” Her eyes were panicked.

She dove after them, sweeping her arm beneath the bed, and he had to close his eyes against the unholy temptation of her delicate ankles, her shapely stockinged legs, her pert and wriggling bottom.

“Crumpets, I can’t reach them…” She crawled halfway beneath the bed, her skirts bunching up, revealing a flash of her garter, the bare skin just above.

He was concentrating on not unmanning himself when she gave a hushed exclamation.

“Carlisle… I think I found something else!”

Perhaps this was God’s way of testing his self-control. “What is it?”

“I accidentally pressed down on one of the floorboards, and it came loose. There’s a piece of paper hidden beneath…”

She backed out from under the bed, clutching a folded piece of paper. He helped her to her feet, and they went over to the table with the lamp, spreading the paper on its surface. Together, they peered at the drawing.

He stared at the detailed architectural rendering. “It’s a map of the house.”

“What was Monique doing with this?” Violet said.

He oriented himself to the various rooms on the map. “Look, that’s the library. And something’s circled there in red ink.”

Violet leaned closer. “I think that’s the hearth. What are those two smudged red shapes in the margin next to it? They look like little clouds or something…”

“I don’t know. But look here.” He traced a blunt fingertip along the red line that started from the hearth and ended…

“That can’t be right.” A notch formed between her brows. “That line passes through the wall between the library and study, and I don’t recall there being a door between the two rooms.”

Understanding sliced through him. “There isn’t. But I think this map is telling us that there might be another way in.”

“You mean… a hidden passageway?” Her eyes were huge. “Oh, Richard, what do you think Monique was doing with this map? What was she planning?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said grimly.