Free The de Valery Code by Darcy Burke

to use it, but it’s there if you change your mind.”
    As horrified as Rhys was by the secret door, he had to admit it was comforting after what had transpired at the inn in Hereford. “Thank you, cousin. I didn’t mean to offend.” Not that everything you do isn’t offensive in some way.
    “I accept your apology. Care to join me for that whisky?”
    Rhys rarely drank before dinner and even if he did, he would’ve begged off. He’d had enough of Stratton for a while. “Thank you, but I think I’d like to clean up before dinner.”
    “As you prefer.” Stratton shrugged and led him from the room. They encountered Post as they exited, and the butler guided Rhys to his chamber.
    Situated in the west wing, the Knight’s Lounge was a large chamber with a massive bed dominating the space. It included an expansive fireplace, a small antechamber for a valet, and that secret door. Set in the corner of the room, it screamed its presence and also that of the woman residing on the other side.
    Rather, women .
    Rhys would do well to remember that Miss Derrington wasn’t alone. He would also do well to remember that she was a young, unmarried miss with whom he could never dally—secret door or no. The fact that he’d contemplated it, even for a second, scared him witless.

    Though Margery was tired from the long day, she couldn’t sleep. She turned over in the large bed, having lost count of how many times she’d sought a new position. But it was no use. She simply couldn’t turn off her mind.
    Dinner had been an odd affair. Lord Stratton had spoken freely of his plans for later that evening in front of his wife . And Lady Stratton had seemed not to care. Margery had practically choked on her stuffed pheasant.
    She’d snuck a look at Mr. Bowen to gauge his reaction and had been pleased to see the flesh around his mouth whiten and his jaw clench. She’d also been pleased to hear him decline Stratton’s offer of entertainment, pleading exhaustion after their journey. Did that mean he might’ve been interested in participating on another night? Tomorrow evening, perhaps?
    She didn’t think so. She’d come to know him, at least a little, in the few days of their acquaintance and he struck her as an honorable sort, even if he had lied to her at the outset. Part of her worried that he was angling for priority access to the book—that this was why Stratton wasn’t showing her the manuscript until tomorrow. What if he’d already shared it with Mr. Bowen? She shook her head, annoyed by her own suspicion. Even if Mr. Bowen had already seen the text, he would’ve had to have detected the code, something he couldn’t do without her book in hand.
    She sat up and tied the curtain back to allow the light from the lamp on the side table in. After everything Mr. Bowen had told her about Stratton, she’d left it lit. And now she could look through the book for the hundredth time.
    Opening it, she ran her fingers over the title page. Where was the code embedded? Was it in one of the pictures? Was it somehow buried in the text? Since learning of the code’s existence, she’d spent countless hours at the White Lady in Monmouth and at the inn in Hereford trying to discern where it might be and what it might say. Having to wait to see Stratton’s book until tomorrow frustrated her greatly.
    Partway through the book, a loud mumbling came from the small chamber where Mrs. Edwards was asleep on a comfortable, but narrow bed. After running afoul of sleeping in the larger bed at the inn in Hereford, she’d insisted on taking the maid’s room.  
    Margery got up from the bed and went to peek on her. She was asleep, just muttering indecipherable words. Perhaps a code. Margery grinned to herself and went back to the bed. Caught up in her amusement, she tripped over the leg of a chair situated opposite the bed. She landed on the floor with a loud “oof” and worried she’d awakened Mrs. Edwards.
    Getting to her feet, she froze as the