Page 28 of The Countess Caper

He stilled. Something hardened in his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

“Someone is in the house. Maybe.”

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

“No need to panic. It’s not the first time.” Apparently not the right thing to say. She’d meant it to be comforting.

His face said otherwise. “Get behind me. And try not to stab me.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“I never for a moment entertained the idea that you might make it so easy.”

She scowled back. “The others are sweeping from the kitchen cellars up. I am sweeping down.”

“Alone?”

“It’s fine.”

“Like hell.” He sent her sword a side glance. “On second thought, give me that.”

“Like hell,” she shot back.

He muttered under his breath, finally unclenching his jaw. “I am twice your size.”

She patted his shoulder, trying not to notice how firm and warm he was. How much she just wanted to lean against his back. She knew he’d take the weight of her without blinking. “That’s nice for you.”

“Do you practice at being infuriating?”

“It’s always come naturally.”

“That I can believe.” He led the way down the narrow staircase, refusing to let her dart ahead. “Why would a housebreaker choose this house? There’s nothing to steal.” She didn’t say anything. He glanced over his shoulder. “Nothing, but not no one, is that it?”

She shrugged.

“Tessa, are you in trouble?”

“Not currently.” Her cousin wouldn’t send someone after her. She had nothing he wanted, nothing at all from her old life except her father’s old pocket watch and snatches of a lullaby. The other women, however, were absolutely in trouble. “You should probably wash your hands of us. Of me.”

“Too late.”

Why should that send a tiny, hot thrill through her midsection?

Ignoring it, Tessa knocked twice on the floor at the bottom of the stairs with her heel. The double knock sounded back to her, traveling down and back up. “In case they heard me shout. That way, they know not to come running.”

“And the housebreaker knows where you are.”

“It’s not a perfect system,” she admitted. “And we only found footsteps. The person who made them is likely long gone.” But what had he seen? What did he know?

“Does this happen often?” he demanded.

She shrugged.

“That’s not an answer.” He swore under his breath. “Or it is, and it’s one I don’t like. Particularly after Summer nearly dropped a trick chandelier on my head.”

“Still time to save yourself.”

He only shot her a stern glare as they continued to search bedroom after bedroom: behind dusty drapes, under old beds, inside armoires. They found mouse nests, bits of ribbons, a shoe one hundred years out of fashion, two pennies. No villain twirling his dastardly moustache, waiting to steal one of her friends away. No more footsteps, either.