Free The de Valery Code by Darcy Burke Page B

option, but she suspected the noise of moving it would only encourage him to come back. Plus, it might wake Mrs. Edwards, who’d apparently slept through the entire encounter with Mr. Bowen. Chaperonage was not her calling.
    Margery went back to the bed, replacing her lamp on the side table. This time, as she tried to find sleep, only one thing kept her from slumber: the tempting vision of a shirtless Mr. Bowen and those dark, dark eyes of his promising something she didn’t even know she’d wanted.

Chapter Five

    Rhys paced the gallery for the fifth time as Miss Derrington and Mrs. Edwards sat on a bench near the center beneath a large painting of some former earl. Stratton kept his de Valery manuscript locked in a closet with other valuables, and they were waiting for his arrival. Post, stationed in front of the door, had directed them to come, but there was no sign of Stratton yet.
    In an effort to keep from looking at Miss Derrington, Rhys tried to study the paintings on display. Despite this, his gaze kept straying toward her. Her hair was swept up, with curls grazing her neck, a smooth, pale expanse of flesh that longed for someone’s— his —lips to caress it. She wore a muslin gown with a yellow floral pattern that outlined her form and reminded him of the curves he’d glimpsed in her chamber last night.
    That had been a near thing. She’d almost looked at him in invitation, certainly with curiosity. If she’d beckoned him closer, he didn’t think he could’ve resisted.
    What folly. Or was it? Would she be open to courtship?
    His thoughts were interrupted by the typically boisterous arrival of his cousin.
    “Ready to see the book?” he asked loudly, offering smiles all around. He appeared freshly groomed, though his cheeks were ruddy and his eyes bloodshot, likely an aftereffect of his excessive evening.
    Miss Derrington stood. “Yes, please.”
    “I’ll just wait here,” Mrs. Edwards said primly.
    Rhys came to a stop near Miss Derrington and escorted her to the closet, lightly touching the small of her back. Post turned and unlocked the door. Stratton went first. The room was equipped with shelves and cupboards. A small table sat in the center.
    Stratton fixed Miss Derrington with a probing stare. “First, I should like to see your book.”
    She held it beneath her arm, but hesitated, shooting a questioning glance at Rhys. He nodded. She went to the table and set the manuscript upon it.
    Stratton moved forward and touched the cover. “It’s very similar to mine. But you’ll see that in a minute.” He flashed her a grin. Opening the book, he studied each page, making occasional remarks. “The stories are different, though it seems there are a handful in each book. Yours includes the Heart of Llanllwch.”
    Rhys cringed at his butchering of Welsh. “It’s pronounced thlan-thlooch.”
    Stratton waved his hand, unconcerned with such trivial things. “Have you seen it in the museum at Oxford?”
    “I have not,” Miss Derrington said. “But Mr. Bowen has.”
    The look Stratton cast Rhys was a mix of humor and disgust. “Of course he has. Bowen has bored himself with all manner of academic nonsense. The heart, however, isn’t nonsense. I saw it last year—it’s quite a treasure. Makes one wonder if the other items in these books might be real, doesn’t it?”
    Rhys’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. Did he know about the treasure, the code? He exchanged alarmed glances with Miss Derrington, but quickly looked away before Stratton could detect anything. If he wasn’t aware of de Valery’s code, Rhys didn’t want to alert him.
    “One might also wonder if King Arthur is real,” Rhys said evenly.
    “I think he must have been. What a boon it would be to find his sword, wouldn’t it?” Stratton looked between them. “He’s supposedly buried in Glastonbury. I presume you’ve been there, Bowen?”
    “I have not.” It was not an academically important site, just a place where some