Page 73 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
The smell of cigar smoke wafted back over him and he cursed again, silently. Raising his hand, he risked a quick rap on the glass pane, and was rewarded by Bull and Kit both whirling toward him, the lad with a knife balanced as if ready to throw.
But then Kit smiled, and Thorne knew everything would be alright.
The two of them unlocked the window and after he determined the guard wasn’t paying attention, made short work of opening it just enough for Thorne to pull himself up and through.
He tumbled to the rug, turning it into a graceful roll, and before he was upright, Bull was tugging the lower sash back into place. Grateful, Thorne used the moment to pull Kit to him, burying his head in her pomaded hair and assuring himself she was safe.
She was safe.
“Thorne, do ye ken there’s a man out here with a gun?”
Bull’s whisper jerked Thorne’s attention to the window, where he was pleased to see the lad had pressed himself to the wall and was using one eye to study the garden. Bull might make a decent spy one day, after all.
“As long as the bastard isnae looking this way, let’s no’ give him a reason to,” Thorne said in a disciplined tone, setting Kit away from him. “Nae light, spread out, find that safe.”
Blackrosehadmoved it from the location Danielle remembered, but thank Christ it was still in the room. Kit was the one to feel the discrepancy under the carpet behind the desk, pushing it aside to reveal the safe hidden among the floorboards.
“Bull,” she hissed, “bring your lockpicking tools over here.”
Thorne scooped up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her glove, only able to spare a moment to thank her. Then it was down to business.
“Kit, listen at the door. Bull, ye brought the light?”
The lad was already turning away, hiking up his skirts and petticoats. “Likely easier if ye just reach up in there and find it.”
“Oh God,” Thorne groaned, going down to one knee toreach up Bull’s gown. “If ye ever tellanyoneabout this, I swear to Christ, I’ll—”
“Ye think I’m thrilled about it?” Bull clucked his tongue. “Nay, that’s my thigh. It’s against my arse.”
“Yer arse?” Thorne was doing his best not to touch any part of Bull he didn’t need to. “Why would ye—”
“Because these bustles are fooking amazing. I could hide a whole ham under this one.”
Thorne found the lantern. “Tell me ye didnae,” he muttered, struggling with the tie.
“Careful!” Bull whispered, “If ye untie my bustle and my petticoats fall down, I’ll never forgive ye. Kit and I still have to stroll out of here through the front door like respectable people when this is over.”
Hopefully it’d be over soon, and nothing would go wrong, and theywouldbe able to leave as they came, while Thorne snuck out the window once more.
“Got it,” he announced quietly, pulling the special dark lantern from beneath Bull’s gown. “And have I told ye how beautiful ye look tonight?”
“Nay, ye havenae.” Bull sank into a surprisingly graceful curtsey. “Marcia helped design the gown, believe it or not.”
From the door Kit murmured, “I think the coiffure suits ye, lad.”
“Too many pins,” Bull disagreed.
Thorne lit the lantern, then closed the little door so the barest sliver of light emerged. “Get down here and pick this lock, laddie, and if ye cannae do it, we’re fooked.”
Bull snorted softly and lowered himself to his knees in a cloud of pale silk. “I’ll have it opened in five minutes.”
It was four minutes and twenty seconds by Thorne’s anxious count when he heard the final tumbler click into place and a triumphant Bull sat back on his heels.
Grinning, Thorne slapped the lad’s back. “Yer fingersaretalented.”
Waving said fingers, Bull hoisted himself to his feet. “I’ll stand right here.” He pointed beside the safe. “To watch for the guards. And so ye can be certain I’m no’ peering over yer shoulder.”
He settled into position with his back to Thorne, his gaze toward the window, and Thorne swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. He glanced at Kit and realized she too was facing the door, her ear pressed to the wood.
