Sinfully Yours by Cara Elliott - Hellions of High Street 02 - Sinfully Yours

Author:Cara Elliott - Hellions of High Street 02 - Sinfully Yours [Elliott, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781455573257
Google: aV00AQAAQBAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 17997006
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

From his vantage point high in the tower, Devlin watched the line of carriages set off down the drive. So far, his plan was rolling along quite smoothly. With the castle empty of all but the servants for the day, he had the perfect opportunity to pursue his suspicions.

Starting with the mysterious Miss Anna Sloane.

“Two can play at manipulations,” he muttered, flexing his fingers. Picking locks was a skill that he, too, possessed. “What is good for the goose is good for the gander—let us see how the lady likes having a stranger pry into her most private secrets.”

He waited for a quarter hour longer, then returned to the stairwell and made his way down to the corridor where Anna was quartered. Patience, patience. The precision required to make his automata had taught him to be very patient. From the shelter of a linen closet, he waited and watched, making sure that her lady’s maid was not still at work.

After a lengthy interlude, satisfied that he would not be interrupted, Devlin slipped from his hiding place and with a deft twist of his metal probe, released her door’s lock and entered her rooms.

The sitting room was decorated in heathered hues of stripes and floral chintzes. He made a cursory search of the cabinets and desk, though he sensed that her secrets would be hidden in a more private spot. As he drew a deep breath, the tantalizing hint of her fragrance seemed to wrap around him like a sinuous serpent and draw him toward the bedchamber.

As he entered, Devlin tried to keep his eyes averted from the carved tester bed, where the faint rumpling of the coverlet stirred an unwilling reaction somewhere far beneath his brain.

Focus, he reminded himself. Thorncroft was not paying him to think with his privy parts.

Forcing his attention back to the task at hand, he approached the massive armoire and began a careful search through the clothing and bandboxes within its cavernous depths.

“Damnation.”

With all the fancy frills and accessories needed for dressing in style, ladies had far more places in which to hide any incriminating evidence.

After finally finishing with checking inside the toes of her evening slippers—did a lady really require a dozen different pairs to appear au courant?—he shut the doors and moved on to the ornate oak bureau.

Nothing. Though the delicate lace of the folded undergarments caused another clench of distraction.

Turning around, he slowly surveyed the rest of the room. The escritoire seemed to be in frequent use. Papers were piled atop a small sketchbook, and several pens were poking up from the holder by the inkwell. As for the old mahogany tea chest, the thick, curling tendrils of the potted ivy nearly obscured the set of drawers. Likely they hadn’t been opened since the last century…

A flicker of sunlight momentarily illuminated the dark wood before giving way to a scudding cloud. Devlin crossed the carpet and crouched down for a closer look. Sure enough, the inside of the keyhole showed a telltale glint of bright brass.

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