Chapter 5 Con #2
Her lips curved into that knowing smirk I was beginning to recognize. “You mean after I bypassed your defenses and saw more than you intended?”
If there was ever someone who could break them—not the ones in my hub, but the ones I’d never let anyone get past, not even Fallon—it was the woman whose present gaze seemed to penetrate the deep recesses of my soul.
“A momentary oversight on my part,” I replied, leading the way down the corridor. “Though I’m still not convinced you didn’t have help.”
“Would it wound your pride less if I had?”
“Perhaps.”
The library doors stood open, welcoming us into a two-story chamber lined with books from floor to ceiling. A fire burned in the massive stone hearth, casting a warm glow across the leather bindings and gilded spines.
“This is magnificent,” Lex said as she took in the shelves and shelves of books. “How many volumes?”
“Around twenty thousand, though I’ve never counted. Many are first editions. The collection has been in the family for generations.”
She moved to the nearest shelf, running her fingers lightly across the spines. “Do you have historical documents as well? Records from the Jacobite period, perhaps?”
Her question sparked an idea. “We might. The family archives include journals, letters, and various documents dating back centuries.” I crossed to a section farther from the fireplace, where older volumes were kept.
For the next hour, we lost ourselves in dusty tomes and fragile manuscripts, spreading our findings across the massive oak table that dominated the center of the room. The search became almost companionable, the earlier tension I’d caused by touching her with such familiarity fading away.
“Look at this,” Lex said, gently turning the pages of a leather-bound journal dated 1744. “Your ancestor, Robert Carnegie, mentions ‘secure passages that were used to transport loyal men and supplies without detection.’”
I leaned over her shoulder, reading the faded script. “And here, he references a map kept by the monks at Glenshadow.”
“This is brilliant,” she said.
Our faces were inches apart as we examined the text. “Quite.”
She looked up suddenly, our proximity registering as her eyes met mine. Neither of us moved for a moment.
“This is proof the tunnels were used during the uprising,” she finally said, her voice slightly lower than before. “They would have been vital during the uprising. Oh!” Her face scrunched.
“What?” I repeated, straightening and putting distance between us when her subtle perfume and the warmth radiating from her body made me want to touch her far more intimately than I had earlier.
“It should’ve dawned on me when you mentioned your ancestor was deeded the land by James III. I’m usually quicker on the uptake, so to speak.”
While I didn’t say it out loud, I’d known how my family acquired the land for most of my life, yet it had never occurred to me that it so obviously meant they were affiliated with the Jacobites.
“I have another question.”
“Go on,” I said.
“Fallon abducted Sullivan and took her into the tunnels, where she, Fallon, was ultimately killed.”
I paced toward the window, watching darkness settle over the grounds. “Your question is, how did she know about them?”
Lex closed the journal. “Sullivan mentioned finding records at the monastery.”
“We should visit tomorrow to see what else they might reveal.”
The mention of Fallon had shifted the atmosphere, bringing reality crashing back into our historical treasure hunt. I found myself staring at the darkened landscape, my thoughts turning inward.
“She was skilled at finding vulnerabilities,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Lex.
“Ms. Wallace?”
I gave an affirmative jerk of my head without turning. “In systems. In people.”
Lex remained silent, but I sensed her watching me, evaluating whether to pursue the topic or let it drop. She chose the former.
“She must have been extraordinary to gain your trust,” she said. “That doesn’t strike me as something you give easily.”
I laughed without humor. “I give it rarely and apparently with poor judgment.”
“We all misjudge people sometimes.”
“Not in my position. Not with the stakes involved.” I turned to face her. “My failure to see through her could very well have resulted in the advancement of a weapons system with the ability to forever alter global stability.”
Lex approached slowly, stopping a few feet away. “How long were you involved?”
“Days.” The admission felt like pulling a splinter—sharp, then relieving. “Yet long enough that I should have recognized the inconsistencies. The information that never quite aligned.”
“No doubt she was trained to compartmentalize,” she said. “To maintain covers that withstand scrutiny. You can’t blame yourself for her deception.”
“Can’t I?” I moved away from the window, needing to occupy my hands. I selected a bottle of Scotch from the sideboard and poured two glasses. When she accepted the one I offered, I raised mine. “To better judgment in the coming year.”
“It is New Year’s Eve, isn’t it?” She glanced at her watch. “I’d lost track of the time. It’s almost midnight.”
“Not how either of us expected to spend it, I imagine. I don’t suppose you…”
“What?”
“Had, have, someone…” Why couldn’t I bring myself to actually ask?
“No.” She lowered her gaze. “I’d much prefer working on a classified operation in a Highland castle with a temperamental earl, regardless.” She smiled slightly.
I returned the grin despite myself. “And here we are.”
“Right.” She raised her glass. “To the new year. May it be less eventful than the last.”
“Good riddance to this one,” I declared, taking a drink.
Her expression softened slightly. “It wasn’t a banner year for me, either.”
I waited for her to elaborate, but she merely sipped her Scotch, her gaze drifting to the fire. The shadows played across her face, highlighting the curve of her lips. Despite my better judgment, I found myself wondering again what lay beneath her composed exterior.
The clock on the mantel chimed midnight, marking the arrival of the new year.
“Happy New Year,” I said, raising my glass one final time.
“Happy New Year,” she echoed, touching hers to mine with a soft clink. “I should probably head to my room. It’s been a long day.”
She finished her drink and set the glass down. “Thanks for the tour and the history lesson. It was…illuminating.”
“I’ll join you, err. I mean I’ll retire as well. To my room.”
We walked in silence through the castle corridors, the only sound our footsteps on stone and the occasional creak of ancient timber. When we reached the countess’ suite, I paused.
“Good night, Lex.”
“Good night, Con.”
I turned toward the earl’s rooms a few paces away, conscious of her gaze following me. At my door, I glanced back to find her still standing there, her expression unreadable in the dim light. For a moment, neither of us moved.
Was she thinking about the proximity of our beds, separated only by an ancient stone wall? The thought had certainly crossed my mind, unwelcome but persistent.
She broke the spell first, crossing the threshold without another word. I entered my own temporary suite moments later, closing the door on the strange tension that seemed determined to follow us despite every logical reason to resist it.
The new year had officially begun, bringing with it new challenges. Tonight, I needed distance and clarity that apparently even the sprawling castle couldn’t provide.