Thick as Thieves Read Online Free PDF Page B

them wielding fire pokers and myriad other seemingly harmless objects which could be brandished against him. Every item he looked at suddenly became alarming.
    When Lady Frederica had picked up her fork to eat at supper, he imagined her stabbing him with it.
    When Lady Edwina had raised her glass to her lips, he imagined her coshing him over the head instead.
    Even now Lady Edwina, the smaller and younger of the two, seemed to have a weapon in her hands, though in actuality it was merely a book of poetry. Surely she could use it to slam against his toes and distract him while her mother, Lady Stalbridge, utilized more destructive armaments against him.
    Perhaps sleep was called for. It certainly might help to clear his head.
    That said, the thought of falling asleep with such thoughts still at the forefront of his mind did not sound appealing in the slightest. Preston could only imagine the path his dreams might take.
    So instead of making his way directly to the Wolfe bedroom and seeking solace in his rest, he decided he needed to do something else. Something which could completely redirect his line of focus.
    In short order, he found himself walking through the blue wing Upton Grey was remodeling towards the study where the reliquary remained. He wanted to take a closer look at it while no one was looking over his shoulder.
    It shouldn’t have surprised him that his brother-in-law was so keen to assist in Preston’s efforts for Darlingshire House—not after what had happened with Rachel. Yet the level of Upton Grey’s generosity was remarkable.
    The corridor was empty and rather dark, as expected. A few of the sconces held lit candles, but of course there were not nearly as many as one would find in the occupied parts of the great house when guests were present.
    What did surprise him, however, was the fact that the study’s door was open. Hadn’t they closed it when they left this afternoon? He was certain they had.
    Preston slowed his gait as he drew closer to the doorway, listening to determine if someone was still inside. Perhaps a servant was cleaning? No, that seemed unlikely given the late hour. The servants were either still serving the family or had already taken to their beds, so they could be well rested for the upcoming day’s work.
    He listened more carefully, but no matter how closely he listened, he heard nothing.
    Yet, once he was mere feet away, a faint light was recognizable filtering gently through the open doorway.
    He knew without a doubt that they hadn’t left a candle burning when they’d quit the room earlier. More damning still, the efficacy with which Goddard ran the house left no likelihood for a servant to have forgotten such a potentially hazardous detail as leaving a candle unattended in an unoccupied room after cleaning within.
    Someone was most assuredly inside, and that someone almost certainly was the same someone who had vocalized the gasp he’d heard from the hallway this afternoon—the very gasp which Upton Grey had sworn must be merely a figment of Preston’s imagination.
    On the contrary, his imagination had never been so vocal before. Preston held sincere doubt it would have begun to effect such peculiar behavior at this moment or any other.
    No, someone had absolutely, unequivocally gasped.
    Not simply someone . It had to be none other than Lady Frederica Bexley-Smythe, given the fact that only she had supposedly retired for the night other than Preston himself. No one else could have arrived here before him without them passing him on their way.
    What in God’s name was she doing?
    Preston stifled a groan and said a quick prayer for favor, and in particular for the sort of favor which might involve the lack of suitable weapons being held in the lady’s hands, and then he entered the study.
    The flickering light from her flame and the faint glow of the moon pouring through the windows illuminated the golden reliquary in the otherwise black-as-pitch room, and then bounced