Moreham stood, tugged at his waistcoat and looked around the bedchamber. His eyes landed on her or rather behind her. He reached over her to pick up his jacket.
Once dressed, he nodded to the secret door. “Ready to call on your new mama?” he asked.
Frustrated by his playful regard, Gillian huffed a deep sigh, stepped over to the wall then worked her hand around the hidden latch. He took over and pulled the door open. He peered into the darkness before retrieving a lit candle, taking hold of her hand and leading the way up the stairs.
She had never liked moving around on the secret stairways in the house. When she was little not long after she came to live at Whitings, she ventured through one of the secret doors to find herself unable to open the door. She could hear her aunt and others calling for her to come out of her hiding place. No one heard her when she called out she was in the wall. After what seemed like hours, her uncle opened the door. She begged him to not be mad. The memory of him holding so tight she had to tell him to loosen his hold brought tears to her eyes. She’d never ventured into the walls again.
With Moreham’s hand surrounding her own, she found she rather enjoyed being in the darkness with him. Maybe he would enjoy a tour of all the stairs inside the walls. Never knew when they would need to escape into the night. Wouldn’t a good spy want to be prepared?
Far sooner than she would have liked, Moreham stopped and moved her closer into his arms. “Gillian, where is the latch?”
She reached forward, felt for the hidden lock and lifted the metal catch. A thin beam of silver light shot across Moreham’s face. The man was smiling. How he could be so jovial at such a dangerous time was far beyond her comprehension. She pushed on the door only to have him grab her around her middle.
“Allow me…” Moreham pinched the candle’s flame and poked his head out the narrow opening before stepping forward into another bedchamber.
They both crept into the unoccupied bedchamber. Neither spoke as they stood still and listened. Moreham nodded to her and they moved across the room to the chamber’s doors. He pressed his ear to the door and listened once more. She appreciated his caution. Servants came and went well into the night. The thought of running into a member of the household and having to explain why she and her new husband were wandering the hallways wasn’t a pleasant thought at all.
Gillian wiggled to ease the stiffness in her back. Moreham motioned her over to the door. He turned the handle slowly then waited a moment. When all remained silent, he opened the door and poked his head out to look both ways down the hallway. Once more, he waited before taking her hand and tugging her down the hall. Neither spoke until Moreham reached the doors of the dowager’s room.
The hall long case clock struck the quarter hour. Gillian held her breath and waited for footsteps. To her horror, the distinctive clicking of heels rang out in the dark. What now?
She leaned into Moreham’s back and whispered. “Do you hear the footsteps. I think someone is coming.”
Moreham opened the door and shoved her inside the very pink bedchamber. Aunt Isadora had ordered the renovation of the room for her most favored bosom bows.
“Moreham, I am certain you have a good reason to disrupt my sleep this night.” His mama called from the monstrous bed situated in the middle of the room.
Before he could reply, the bedchamber’s doors opened. Philly slipped into the room.
“Really, Moreham if you are going to sneak around in the night, shouldn’t you be quieter. I heard you open the door. Gillian, you really should speak to Mrs. Osgood about oiling the hinges, but not until we leave. The noisy hinges will work to our advantage.”
Philly gave them each a hard look. “I am assuming we are all standing around in our nightclothes because the pair of you have something to tell us.”
Moreham gave an accounting of their visit to the abbey and what they’d overheard. Once he finished speaking, Philly asked, “Moreham, what is your plan? Don’t give me that look of innocence. I have worked with you for far too long to believe you haven’t devised a plan to gain the most intelligence you can from this meeting.”
“Cross and I will ride out in the morning to the abbey so he can familiarize himself with the layout. Before Whitney and the others arrive from Town, we will be back, dressed for an at home afternoon. Once, everyone retires for the evening after dinner, we will return to the abbey and wait. Between the two of us, we will identify as many of the attendees as possible. No one will be the wiser of our presence.”
“What do you think Philly?” the dowager asked from her bed. “I think his plan is brilliant. I am for any plan that will keep both he and Cross safe from discovery.”
“I agree, Sylvia. Moreham, what about Gillian’s part?”
“She will remain here in the house.”
“Gillian, do you agree with Moreham’s intent to leave you behind?”
“No, I do not, but he is right. My presence could be a problem for them. I don’t want to be the reason they fail to identify the traitors.”
Philly paced the floor back and forth. “Very well, I agree as well. Moreham, you will elude capture at all cost.”
“Believe me, my lady, avoiding the wrong end of a pistol is my prime consideration.”
Lady Sylvia waved her hands to the door. “Now that is settled, off to bed everyone. Tomorrow sounds like a busy day for us all.”
Moreham ignored his mother’s
