All in all, not the most graceful of positions.
“What if I do this?” Hyacinth wedged herself next to the cabinet and slid her arm around back. Her fingers found the knob easily.
Gareth immediately let go and pulled his arm out from under the cabinet.
“Don’t worry,” she said, somewhat sympathetically, “you couldn’t have fit your arm back here. There isn’t much room.”
“I don’t care which of us can reach the knob,” he said.
“You don’t? Oh.” She shrugged. “Well, I would.”
“I know,” he said.
“Not that it really matters, of course, but—”
“Do you feel anything?” he cut in.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t seem to be moving. I’ve tried it up and down, and side to side.”
“Push it in.”
“That doesn’t do it, either. Unless I—” Her breath caught.
“What?” Gareth asked urgently.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining, even in the dim light of the moon. “It twisted. And I felt something click.”
“Is there a drawer? Can you pull it out?”
Hyacinth shook her head, her mouth scrunching into an expression of concentration as she moved her hand along the back panel of t
he cabinet. She couldn’t find any cracks or cutouts. Slowly, she slid down, bending at the knees until her hand reached the lower edge. And then she looked down. A small piece of paper lay on the floor.
“Was this here before?” she asked. But the words were mere reflex; she knew it hadn’t been.
Gareth dropped to his knees beside her. “What is it?”
“This,” she said, unfolding the small piece of paper with trembling hands. “I think it fell from somewhere when I twisted the knob.” Still on hands and knees, she moved about two feet so that the paper caught the narrow shaft of moonlight flowing through the window. Gareth crouched beside her, his body warm and hard and overwhelmingly close as she smoothed the brittle sheet open.
“What does it say?” he asked, his breath dancing across her neck as he leaned in.
“I-I’m not sure.” She blinked, forcing her eyes to focus on the words. The handwriting was clearly Isabella’s, but the paper had been folded and refolded several times, making it difficult to read. “It’s in Italian. I think it might be another clue.”
Gareth shook his head. “Trust Isabella to turn this into a fancy hunt.”
“Was she very crafty, then?”
“No, but inordinately fond of games.” He turned back to the cabinet. “I’m not surprised she would have a piece like this, with a secret compartment.”
Hyacinth watched as he ran his hand along the under-side of the cabinet. “There it is,” he said appreciatively.
“Where?” she asked, moving beside him.
He took her hand and guided it to a spot toward the back. A piece of wood seemed to have rotated slightly, just enough to allow a scrap of paper to slide through and float to the ground.
“Do you feel it?” he murmured.
She nodded, and she couldn’t be sure whether she was referring to the wood, or the heat of his hand over hers. His skin was warm, and slightly rough, as if he’d been out and about without his gloves. But mostly his hand was large, covering hers completely.