Chapter 10: The Tithe Barn

Betsy found the key the next morning, sewn into the lining of a hat.

It was small and brass, with a tag that said only T.B.

"Tithe Barn," Betsy said.

"My lady has a tithe barn on the estate, at the far end past the orchard."

"Nobody uses it, the roof leaks."

"Then it's the perfect place to hide something," I said.

Hadrian had the horses saddled by the time I got my boots on.

The Hallowell barn stood alone at the end of the orchard, gray with age, its doors chained.

I ran the last hundred yards in my skirts.

The key fitted the chain on the first try.

Inside, it smelled of dust and apples and old hay.

It was empty.

I stood in the middle of the floor and turned in a slow circle.

"There is a leak in the roof," Betsy offered.

"Check the grain sacks," Hadrian said quietly.

There were twenty of them stacked against the east wall, fat and dusty.

I put my hand on the nearest one and it clinked.

My heart did a stupid, joyful flip.

I slit the stitching with Hadrian's knife and a river of silver poured out across the boards.

Crowns, hundreds of them, then thousands, rolling around my boots and glittering in the slats of light.

I sat down in them and started to laugh.

"It's money," I said.

"It's actual money, it's all money."

"How much?" Hadrian said.

We counted.

I counted aloud, because I couldn't help it.

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