Page 29

T he good news was that Diana was apparently not afraid of heights. The cornice was wide enough that she was not in imminent danger of falling. In fact, she could shuffle around the exterior of the building without too much trouble.

The bad news was… well. There was so much bad news, she scarcely knew where to begin.

There was the fact that the maid, upon noticing the open window, had promptly closed and locked it.

Diana had checked a couple of nearby windows.

They were latched as well. To be sure, she had not checked every window on the second floor, partially because of the next piece of bad news—that she was wearing a primrose yellow dress which stood out like a sore thumb against the house’s red brick exterior.

If anyone glanced up at the house, she would be discovered at once.

The best option she could come up with was to slip around the side of the building.

It didn’t offer much in the way of concealment, but it was better than standing against the front facade.

The windows were designed in such a way that their frames provided a good grip, so she was safe for the moment. But she was also stuck.

After a few minutes, she decided to see if there was anything of interest going on in the back garden. With careful steps, she edged along the cornice, checking the windows as she went. All locked, unfortunately.

As she neared the corner, she spied a flash of motion in the back garden below. Peering down, she watched as Carl Frederick hurled a flat stone at a short post staked into the ground. Harrington clapped his hands, and his voice drifted up to her. “Good throw!”

So, that was where they had set up to play varpa, the game Harrington had mentioned at breakfast. It looked to be similar to horseshoes, but the objects they were throwing were flat, round stones.

Hope flared in her heart. If she could gain Harrington’s attention, he would find a way to rescue her. She knew he would.

Selecting a stone, Carl Frederick whirled around. Diana hugged the side of the house as tightly as she could.

Carl Frederick turned his back to make his throw. She had a clear view of Harrington’s profile. She had to catch his eye! Now she was leaning out from the wall as far as she dared, waving her arm like a baby bird who had just been shoved out of the nest.

Oblivious to her plight, Harrington bent and selected a stone. Diana pressed herself back into the wall, biding her time.

It took fifteen agonizing minutes before Harrington spotted her. It was not difficult to mark the moment he did. His head jerked around as dramatically as any pantomime actor to grace the stage. His mouth promptly fell open. Even from a distance, she could read the befuddlement on his face.

Carl Frederick murmured a question she couldn’t make out, then started to turn in the direction of Harrington’s gaze. Harrington hastily grabbed him by the shoulder, gesturing to the stake.

They continued to play. Diana willed herself to remain calm. Harrington had spotted her. Her rescue was imminent.

Clutching the window frame, she uttered a silent prayer that she could go unnoticed for a few more minutes.

“I say, Lieutenant, what has become of your form?”

Carl Frederick’s question was a reasonable one. Harrington was usually a dab hand at this sort of game—not that he’d ever played varpa before, but he had some experience with lawn bowls, pall mall, and the like. He and Carl Frederick had started off neck-and-neck.

But his hands had been shaking ever since he saw his wife standing on that bloody ledge. He needed to contrive an excuse to slip away so he could rescue her.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden.” It might not have been very creative, but strictly speaking, it was true. He was so racked with anxiety, he feared he might cast his accounts right there on the lawn.

Carl Frederick frowned. “Now that you mention it, your color is not looking so good. Are you able to continue?”

Harrington gave him a tight smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure it will pass in a minute or two.”

He threw another stone, which bounced off the stake and rolled to an inglorious stop five feet away.

He normally would have been annoyed at himself for his poor performance.

Athletic endeavors were one of a blessed few things he was actually good at, and he did take a bit of pride in his abilities.

But right now, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

All he could think about was how he was going to get Diana to safety with all possible speed.

He was all but certain the cornice wrapped around the base of the second floor.

Their bedchambers were on the first floor, so it wouldn’t be as simple as helping her back into their own rooms. He wanted to study the house to confirm, but that would only draw Carl Frederick’s attention. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look .

When his next throw went sailing into the hedge, Carl Frederick turned to him, his eyes concerned. “Are you quite certain you are all right?”

Bending forward at the waist, Harrington placed a hand on his abdomen. “I’m afraid something from breakfast seems to have disagreed with me. If you’ll excuse me…”

Carl Frederick waved a hand. “Yes, yes—please, return to the house. We will finish our game another time.”

“Thank you,” Harrington called over his shoulder. He tried to make his posture stiff and uncomfortable-looking as he hurried toward the house.

Once inside, he dropped the pretense of being ill and headed upstairs. He went to the second floor, hoping he could find an unlocked room, but as soon as he stepped into the corridor, he encountered a pair of maids.

They jerked apart guiltily, and he suspected he had caught them taking a break from their duties. “Can we help ye, sir?” asked a young woman with light brown hair and freckles.

“Oh!” Harrington made a show of glancing around. “Is this the second floor?”

“It is, sir.”

He shook his head, trying to look rueful. “I seem to have gone up one floor too many. Excuse me.”

He jogged down to the first floor, trying to gather his thoughts.

This was definitely a setback. He supposed he could wait for the maids to leave the corridor.

But who knew when that might occur, and there were enough guests staying in the house that it would be difficult to wander the second floor undetected.

The excuse he had made, of going to the wrong floor, might seem plausible once, but if he began skulking in the corridor, it was bound to raise suspicion.

One thing he did know was that he couldn’t leave Diana out on that ledge for the next hour while he tried to devise a plan.

Once he reached the first floor, he went straight through to the back of the house and entered the servants’ stairs.

He knew precisely where they were, as he and Diana had spent the past four days mapping out the house.

Skipping the second floor, he went all the way to the top level where the servants had their rooms. The corridor was deserted, which made sense, as they were all busy performing their morning duties.

He went to the side of the house where he had last seen Diana and began trying doorknobs. The third one he twisted proved to be unlocked, and he slipped inside.

He didn’t bother to look around beyond ascertaining that the room was deserted. Peering out the window, he could see Diana’s golden head about six feet away.

He slid the window open, heart in his throat. “Diana!” he hissed. She turned but didn’t spot him right away, so he added, “Up here!”

She gave him a brilliant smile; how was it possible that she looked so at ease, standing thirty feet up in the air? His heart was pounding out of his chest as she picked her way along the cornice with small, confident steps, but she looked as cool as a cucumber.

Once she was in position below him, he hissed, “The second floor is crawling with housemaids. I’ll come for you as soon as I can.”

The wind picked up, tangling her skirts about her legs. She shook them free as if this were a minor inconvenience. “Can you reach me from there?”

He paused, measuring it up. The attic floor, which contained the servants’ quarters, did not have high ceilings like the levels below intended for guests. It just might be possible.

He took a firm grip on the windowsill with his left hand and hooked his left foot around the bedstand for good measure. Then, he leaned out the window from the waist, dangling his right arm down as far as it would go.

Diana reached up, and to his surprise, her fingertips brushed his.

He felt vertiginous just watching her standing on that ledge without a grip on anything, but she looked unbothered.

“I think I can reach you if I go up on my toes,” she said conversationally.

“Lean down as far as you can. On three. One… two…”

“Three!” he said in unison with her, stretching down with everything he had. His fingers closed around her wrist, and he felt her return the gesture. “All right?” he asked tightly.

She nodded, and the trust in her eyes, the absolute confidence that he would not let her fall humbled him. And damn if he was going to let any harm come to this wonderful, perfect unicorn of a woman who actually seemed to like him , of all people.

He tightened his grip around her wrist and, before he had the chance to consider the consequences if he were to fail, he hauled her up to his level. Once she was sitting on the windowsill, he wrapped her up in a bear hug and pulled her inside, his whole body shaking with relief.

Diana laughed and wrapped her arms around him, and they stood there, holding each other.

After a moment, Harrington chuckled. “Why am I breathing harder than you are?”

She smiled up at him, her eyes sympathetic. “Were you frightened?”

She sounded completely normal, but when he spoke, his voice was unsteady. “Do you mean to tell me that you weren’t?”