Page 85 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

He exchanged looks with Miss Martin and she shrugged. “Perhaps she is in charge of distributing the clues,” she whispered, her warm breath on his throat causing a pleasurable tightening in his belly.

“If so, she is doing a poor job,” he whispered back.

“Maybe we should tell her that she didn’t leave enough clues in the library?”

He clucked his tongue. “Oh, Miss Martin! Where is your cutthroat impulse? Do you want this treasure, or not?”

A mischievous smile illuminated her usually serious features. Really, the woman was adorable when she smiled and should do so more often. “All is fair in love and treasure hunting?” she asked.

“That’s the spirit!” he said, holding her sparkling gaze for a moment before turning to the wall. “Now, where is that catch?”

“Another secret stairwell?” she asked, coming to stand close beside him, the faint smell of soap and lavender teasing his nostrils.

“This panel is not a secret, although it is very well-hidden,” he muttered. “Here it is,” he pushed on the upper corner of a panel and exposed a small room. There were shelves filled with bedding, a bucket, a mop, and other housekeeping supplies.

“It is a linen closet,” Miss Martin said, sounding so disappointed that Andrew chuckled. “This wouldn’t have been difficult for priest hunters to find at all.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he teased, and then began shoving aside piles of sheets until he found the lever and pushed it into its slot. “How is this for well-hidden?” he asked, and then pulled the edge of the shelving toward him. It did not move willingly, but like an especially heavy, grudging door. Andrew kept pulling until there was a two-foot opening.

“There is nothing but a wall behind it,” she said, yet again sounding disappointed. “What now?”

Andrew slid his hand to the far edge of the panel, to where there was a gap where two sections of wall met.

He tucked the fingers of both hands into the gap. “This slides open, but it takes…a…bit…of…effort.” He pulled until an extremely slim aperture appeared.

She peered through the opening but hung back. “It’s very dark.”

“I’ll go first,” he said, amused by her reluctance to enter. The stairs were so narrow that his shoulders almost brushed the walls.

“It is warm in here,” she said, her hushed voice coming from right behind him.

“The staircase runs alongside a chimney stack, which is how they managed to conceal it. From outside, it looks like there are six chimneys. If a person watched long enough, they would notice that smoke only came out of five.”

“Clever,” she murmured.

He stopped on the top step which served as a landing. There was one candle in a plain wall sconce to cast some light.

“I cannot believe they would put a clue up here,” Miss Martin said as Andrew felt for the lever that would unlatch the door.

“I can. Needham is as proud of this priest hole as if he’d built it with his own hands. Evidently it is the second largest one in Britain. At least as far as people know.” He slid his hand over the door again, but slower this time. “Needham is having three secret rooms constructed in the house he is having built. They are to be a surprise gift for his wife.”

Miss Martin gave a delighted laugh.

“You would like that?” he guessed.

“Who would not?”

Andrew smiled. “There is speculation among the people who study this sort of thing that many hideaways still remain undiscover—ah, there you are,” he muttered, depressing the metal latch and then grunting as he slid back the thick slab of wood to expose another narrow opening, this one so small that he had to turn sideways and crouch to get through it.

Once he was in the attic he turned, chuckling when he saw that she came through the space with ease. “It is a door made especially for you,” he teased.

“Very droll.” She looked around at the vast space. “I thought priest holes were supposed to be tiny. This is massive.”

“Seventeen feet by twelve, or so Needham boasted.”

“There is even a fireplace,” she said, gazing toward the far end of the room, where all the comforts of a guest suite were arrayed—including a bed—the furnishings simple but elegant. “How on earth did they get everything up here through that narrow entry?”

“Much of the original furnishings had rotted away so Needham had carpenters build new pieces here. He said everything here is an exact replica.”