Chapter 39

How awful it was to be so suspicious of someone she thought she knew so well. All afternoon, Olivia worked alongside Russell

as she normally would, but mistrust tightened her stomach, making her feel nauseous and unsteady.

For she had trusted Russell. Implicitly.

The idea that he'd been lying to her for possibly years repulsed her.

"You've been quiet all day." Russell placed a crate on the floor in the middle of the storeroom. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm tired, is all." Careful not to let him suspect she knew anything about his connection with the counterfeit chinoiserie,

she forced herself to look at him, and then to the crate he'd brought in. "What are you doing with that?"

"Remember that set of silver French candelabras your uncle bought at auction last year at Flanner's? An inquiry to purchase

came in while you were at Cloverton, and I'm taking them to a fellow in Harlow."

"Anyone we know?"

"Nah. Fellow by the name of Herman."

Normally, Olivia would not think twice about such a trip, but now her skepticism flared. He'd made dozens of such trips over the course of the past several years. Had his purpose behind those trips been sincere, or had they been made with nefarious intentions? "Will you be gone long?"

"Not sure. Thought I'd stop by the docks over in Brighton and along the coast while I'm there. Make the most of the effort."

He glanced up at her and paused his action. "What's the matter? You look angry."

"Angry? No, of course not." She forced a smile. "It's just that I'm trying to familiarize myself with all that happened while

I was gone."

"Think you'll be fine without me?" He grinned.

Olivia leaned her side against the doorframe. The inflection in his voice, which had been so commonplace and typical for so

long, now rang with incongruity. "I'll be perfectly fine."

Later that night, after everyone else had gone to sleep and Russell had departed for Harlow, Olivia crept to the storeroom.

She'd never be able to sleep—not with her newfound knowledge and her conversation with Lucas racing through her mind. There

had to be something about Russell she was missing—and she was determined to find it.

Russell's bedchamber was just off the storeroom. He'd lived with her family for as long as he had worked for her father, and

in that time she'd never been to his chamber.

She hesitated before entering. The door was not locked, but then again, she'd be surprised if it were. The thought of intruding into someone's personal space unsettled her, but what choice did she have? If she was going to accuse Russell of something this serious, she'd need substantial proof.

She lifted her candle higher and stepped inside his room. The windowless chamber was long and narrow, and it consisted of

a bed in the corner, a table and chair on the opposite wall, a wardrobe, two stacked chests, and a trunk.

Wasting no time, Olivia placed the chamberstick on the table and moved to open the wardrobe door. Inside hung hats and clothing,

and shoes lined the shelf across the top. Nothing seemed suspicious, so she abandoned the task and moved to the chests. Slowly,

quietly, she opened the top one and drew the candle closer. Letters, handwritten notes, and small boxes cluttered the interior.

Methodically she pored over them, careful to remember the location of each. With each word she read and each box she opened,

fresh guilt heaped heavy on her. So far, everything seemed completely harmless.

After she returned the items the way she'd found them, she moved to the leather trunk at the foot of his bed. She crouched

next to it and pushed the unlocked lid open. Inside were more letters, linens, and various pieces of clothing. She placed

each piece on the wooden floor next to her as she continued her examination. She was about to return the items to their original

places when she lost her balance and fell against the trunk.

The trunk did not move. In fact, it was far heavier than an empty trunk should be.

She removed the remaining articles and reached inside, and when her hand scraped the bottom of the wood, a hollow sound echoed. Alarm flaring, she used her weight to pull the trunk on its side, and as she did, a false bottom fell forward and a bound volume and a secured portfolio tipped out.

She snatched the book and opened it.

Inside was documented a series of transactions. The words made no sense, as if they were written in a code, but the numbers

were clear and large. The corresponding dates were only recorded by the quarter of the year, but further exploration revealed

the earliest recorded dates were from the year her father had died.

She unwound the twine securing the portfolio and opened the flap. Banknotes fell out. Lots of them.

Heart racing, she left her perch by the trunk, hurried to the office to retrieve a paper and pencil, and returned to make

notes about everything in the ledger, paying particular attention to the items she believed could have possibly been some

of the pieces in the Milton collection. With each discovery, each nugget of information, her determination to uncover the

truth intensified. She refused to give in to the sense that she'd been taken for a fool. Instead, she determined to be meticulous

in her search for details.

She would unearth the truth and uncover how these odd pieces were connected. She owed it to her father's legacy. She owed

it to her clients. She owed it to herself.

By the time Olivia returned Russell's room to the state in which she'd found it, the long clock in the corridor had chimed

the three o'clock hour. She expected to return to her bedchamber and find Laura sleeping, but upon approaching it, she saw

a candle's glow flickering from behind the ajar door.

Concerned, she slowly approached and peered inside. Laura was sitting up in bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. In that moment, even with her chestnut hair woven in a long plait and wearing her nightdress, she no longer appeared as a child. The very mature expression of definite disapproval tightened her expression.

The slender young woman straightened as Olivia entered, and for several seconds, neither spoke. It was only after Olivia placed

the candle on the table next to the bed that Laura blurted, "Where have you been?"

Olivia shook her head and attempted to mask her discomfort with a laugh. "I couldn't sleep."

Laura tossed the blanket away from her. "It's the middle of the night. Why are you still dressed in a gown?"

Taken aback by the forcefulness in her sister's tone, Olivia stiffened. It was becoming increasingly difficult to conceal

the truth about so many things from Laura. She was clever. Perceptive. Their personalities could not be more different, and

yet respect existed between them that demanded honesty or, at the very least, an explanation.

Before Olivia could formulate a believable response, Laura swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "You have been

acting strangely ever since you returned from Cloverton Hall. Something must have happened."

Olivia's cluttered mind struggled to come up with a response that would satisfy.

When she didn't reply soon enough, Laura shook her head vehemently. "Perhaps you forget how well I know you. I know the difference between when you are tired and when you are worried and when something is bothering you, so you might as well tell me what it is, for I'll not let you rest until you do."

Laura's genuine concern touched her. How could Olivia tell her sister what she knew? How could she help Laura make sense of

what was going on around them when she herself could not?

Olivia drew a sobering breath, closed the door, and sat on the bed next to her sister. "Like I said, a great deal happened

at Cloverton Hall. A very great deal. I'm perfectly fine, but it was an eye-opening experience—about how abominably people

treat each other and the great lengths to which others are willing to go to advance themselves."

"And Mr.Avery?" Laura lifted her brow as she turned to face Olivia. "I heard from Russell that he was here. I thought you

hated the Averys."

There was no reason to hide her true feelings from her sister. "You're right. I did dislike them. But so much time has passed,

and after spending time with Lucas, I learned that he is much more like us than I ever would have expected."

"Lucas?"

Olivia locked gazes with her sister. She'd let his Christian name slip from her lips.

"I-I mean Mr.Avery. We became friends during our time at Cloverton, and I believe we both want to continue that friendship

now that we are home. But there is a great deal to consider."

Laura's eyes widened. "As in a beau? As in—?"

Olivia held up her hand. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, but I do think—I hope—we will see more of Mr. Avery in our future."

As if satisfied with the answer, Laura sat back down on the bed. "Just please promise me you will not move on without me.

You are my only family. If I didn't have you, I wouldn't have anyone."

Olivia sat next to her sister, put her arm around her, and kissed her head. "We will always have each other. On that you have

my word."