He turned to face her fully and pulled the hood of her cloak more securely around her face. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He tucked a stray curl back behind her ear and then planted a chaste kiss on her lips.
“How do you propose to enter without a key?”
“How would any thief enter? I shall smash a pane of glass or force the door.” With an air of confidence, he moved to inspect the paint-chipped wooden frame. “It’s rotten in places and with a little effort will easily splinter.”
“But will it not be more difficult to repair?” Poor Mr Wild was so weak he didn’t need any more problems. “If you’re determined to examine your father’s file, find a way that causes the least stress for Mr Wild.”
Oliver sighed. “You’re right. In my desperation to prove Matilda Murray is a fraud, I’d forgotten about Wild.” He bent down and peered through the keyhole. “I’ll break the small pane near the handle. Thankfully, some fool has left the key in the door.”
Nicole stepped back while Oliver used his elbow to force the glass. The wood holding the pane in place was rotten, too, and the window fell through with ease.
“There’s broken glass on the floor.” He squeezed his hand through the gap and turned the key. “Mind where you walk in those slippers.”
As soon as Oliver opened the door, swirls of thick yellow fog invaded the new space.
Nicole stared at the patterned floor. “I can’t see any glass.”
“Here, allow me to assist you over the threshold.”
With no word of warning, he scooped her up into his muscular arms and held her tightly against his chest. A faint gasp left her lips. Unable to resist the urge to snuggle into him, she placed her head on his shoulder and inhaled his musky scent.
Heaven was the only word to enter her mind.
His shoes crunched on the broken shards as he bowed his head and navigated the narrow entrance. They walked through a storage area filled with wooden trunks and cabinets, through a small kitchen and followed the corridor out into the hall.
“I think it’s safe for you to put me down,” she said, despite wishing she could stay in his arms forever.
Forever?
What did it mean? That she wanted to be with him always? That she could not imagine any other man touching her, kissing her?
Was Oliver Darby the one she’d been waiting for?
Oliver’s heated gaze travelled over her face, and his mouth curled into the rakish smile she loved. Releasing his grip on her legs, he lowered her slowly down the length of his body until she found her feet. Her heart was thumping so loudly he must surely be able to hear it.
“I would smash every window I came across for another chance to hold you close.”
“And I would not object.”
They stared at each other in the musty corridor. The surrounding air came alive as it always did when they spoke so openly about their feelings.
“But let us address the matter of your father’s file,” she continued, “before we find ourselves carted off by a constable and thrown into a damp cell.”
Taking a firm grip of her hand, Oliver led her to Mr Jameson’s office. The cluttered room was a death trap in the dark. Grey shadows loomed large. But it soon became
apparent that they were bookcases. The white quill feather stood straight in the ink pot guiding them to the desk like a beacon. The surface was littered with books, papers, and an oil lamp though they could not risk lighting it.
“Jameson keeps his files in that cabinet.” Oliver pointed at a nondescript object in the corner. Taking care where they placed their feet, they came to stand before the tall tower of drawers. “If memory serves, it should be in here.”
With his head bent low he scoured row upon row of papers, muttering the word Benting many times before eventually retrieving the file and waving it in the air. “Now we have what we came for we can leave.”
“Leave? But I thought you wanted to examine the document?”
“I intend to take the file with me. In order to delay the fake Miss Flint from taking possession of the property that was meant for you.”
Nicole shook her head. “You cannot steal the file. It’s enough that we have broken a window. I’ll not see you accused of robbery.”
“Morton Manor belongs to you, and I am determined to see that you get it, by whatever means necessary. Hell, I’ll take the matter to the Court of Chancery if necessary.”