Free Kay Springsteen by Something Like a Lady Page A

basket and snagged the single scone with a wink. As he sauntered from the cooking area, another tune sprung to mind.
    Pretty maid with the golden hair, Come take my hand and climb the stair…
    He pursed his lips and began to whistle as he stepped into the hallway.
    Something struck the door just as he closed it behind him, the basket from the sound of it. At least her temper had chased that dreadful pallor away. But as he entered the sitting room and sank onto the Grecian couch, her reaction to the slamming outer door troubled him. Of all the reasons Annabella hadn ’ t gone on to London with her aunts, he had never once considered that she might be in hiding for reasons other than to cause mischief for his friend.

 

Chapter Six
     
    Brambles clawed her arms and snagged on the sleeves of the gray dress. Even the sturdy material was no match for the determined thorns. Using the slender box as a shield, she pushed some prickly stems aside. But the branch slipped off the polished wood and slapped her left arm. Searing pain exploded from her elbow to her shoulder. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she blinked furiously until the sting cleared .
    What an ill-fated excursion her latest scheme was turning out to be. She should have stayed at the cottage, hidden in the scullery to open the wooden case. After all, Seabrook had absented himself on another mysterious outing shortly after tea, leaving her quite alone. Logic told her that Abby wouldn ’ t return before she delivered supper. Still, something about the way the case had been secreted in the wall… While it piqued her insatiable curiosity, it also stirred a bee ’ s nest of unease in her middle. She could think of no legitimate reason for its being set there. That alone seemed to call for the utmost caution when investigating its contents.
    A branch whipped into her face and she gasped with surprise. Perhaps her decision to travel into the woods had been a bit extreme. She stared at the wall of tangled brush before her. The deer track had long since dwindled to nothing. But surely the secluded thicket where she and Juliet had once played was near. She turned to her right. A hedge of blackberry bushes loomed, delicate white blossoms fluttering in the light breeze. Hope soared. They ’ d often collected the fat, sweet berries and shared them, laughing at the way the juice stained their lips dark red. She must be close.
    At the snap from behind her, Annabella glanced over her shoulder. Had she been followed? She stilled her movements and waited. The leaves overhead whispered in the warm breeze. In the distance, a lark trilled a lonely song. The brook bubbled somewhere ahead. She was definitely on the right trail. She waited a moment longer, but no more twigs snapped, and she didn ’ t so much as hear a rustle from the tall grass at her feet. Annabella moved forward.
    As she slipped between two thick trees growing close together, the sound of the brook grew suddenly stronger. T his time when she shoved aside the clutching brambles and pushed through, she stepped into the tiny glade she ’ d been seeking.
    The three flat-topped boulders that resembled a table and two chairs stood off to one side, the bases now partially obscured by lush green grass. Annabella picked her way carefully. If so much as a volemouse scampered across her feet , her courage would desert her.
    The largest boulder was dusty, with small bits flaking off in patches, leaving shards of sharp gravel strewn across the top. She brushed at the me ss but only managed to dirty her hand. With a shrug, she set the wooden case down. She studied the box for a moment then pulled out a hairpin and jammed it into the simple lock. It took a few tries before she was rewarded by a tiny snick .
    Thank you, Juliet, for showing me how to force a lock.
    The hinges were stiff but the lid lifted without a sound. Papers fluttered and resettled with a sigh.
    Annabella stared. “ Banknotes! ” She pushed them aside only to