The Rake Revealed by Kate Harper

automatically going to the panel beside the fireplace.
    Which was open!
    Camille stared at it, thoroughly disconcerted. The panel was open and there was no sign of Mr. Morosett. Did that mean that her guest had gone down those extremely steep stairs that led… to wherever it was that they went? It seemed highly unlikely that those miniatures would be down there. She walked forward slowly, but of course there was nothing to see. Not without a candle, anyway. Pressing her lips together, she turned to go in search of one. She had had her doubts about Morosett all along and this certainly seemed to be very odd behavior. He could not have known that the panel was there, unless he had prior knowledge, and why would he, unless he was a smuggler as well?
    ‘ C’est ridicule ,’ she muttered, annoyed and alarmed in almost equal amounts. What did the man think he was up to?
    Seizing a candlestick from the hallway, she lit the wick and headed back towards the green parlor. Before she reached the door, however, she was hailed by Mr. Morosett’s lazy accents.
    ‘Oh there you are. I returned to the drawing room, but you were gone.’
    Camille turned slowly to stare at him. He was, indeed, behind her, standing in the doorway of the library. ‘Mr. Morosett…’
    ‘Were you looking for me? I found what I was after, as you can see.’ He held up two small figurines, both of them clearly a shepherd and a shepherdess. She glanced back over her shoulder towards the green parlor, wondering if, perhaps, the madness that seemed to haunt the area was catching.
    ‘But I looked in there,’ she said, almost to herself.
    ‘Did you? Perhaps you did not see me. I am afraid I was indulging myself among your shelves. You have quite the collection.’ He sounded faintly quizzical.
    ‘Yes, I suppose that is true. I did not see you.’ Should she mention the panel? No, she decided, perhaps not. Something odd was happening, but she had no desire to share anything with the man before her. Apart from anything else, she simply did not trust him. He might be as passionate about French porcelain as he said, but that panel had most assuredly not been open before his arrival. ‘I am glad you have found what you seek, Mr. Morosett. Please feel free to take them away with you and examine them at your leisure.’
    ‘That is very generous of you,’ he was still looking at her curiously, as if he could not quite fathom her behavior. His eyes went to the candlestick in her hand, one thin eyebrow arching a little. Was this the attitude of a guilty man? But what was he guilty of? Camille was sure that something was going on, but she could hardly accuse him of anything.
    Pardon me, monsieur, but I believe you opened a secret panel in my parlor. Even to her own ears it sounded ridiculous.
    ‘Unfortunately,’ she said, trying very hard to sound as if wandering around with a lighted candle was the most normal thing in the world, ‘I have an engagement or I would ask you to stay to tea.’
    ‘Of course. I understand completely. I am afraid I rather burst in upon you today. I shall see you at the Fallston ball tomorrow night?’
    ‘Of course,’ she said, trying not to sound too abstracted. ‘So grand it is, to have a ball in Lymstock. I am very excited.’
    ‘Hardly Almacks, but it should be tolerably amusing. Once again, please forgive me for intruding.’
    She uttered all the necessary platitudes, assuring him that it had been a pleasure. A box was arranged for the figurines, Gillie packing them into it carefully. It took a good fifteen minutes before Camille saw him out the door and when it shut behind him, she blew out a breath.
    ‘Gillie, run and tell Hibbert to get the carriage ready. I am going into Kingsdown.’
    While the girl hurried off to relay this request, Camille returned to the green room. She stood for a long moment, staring at the panel, now shut.
    Enough was enough. Before nightfall she would have a carpenter in this house and that panel