Page 26 of Bride of Fire
After an agonizing interlude, the cries took on a rhythmic sound, as if someone had finally picked up the babe and was bouncing it on a knee. It didn’t help much, but at least Jenefer knew the infant hadn’t been completely abandoned.
It took a long while to calm the child. But by the time its cries turned to soft whimpers, Jenefer was worn thin with irritation.
How long the peace lasted, she wasn’t sure. It seemed she’d just lapsed into slumber once more when the air was split by new wailing and she was jolted awake yet again.
She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to ignore the sound. After all, if her cousins could sleep through the racket, so could she.
This time, however, the cries seemed far more piercing and insistent. Even the rhythmic bouncing didn’t stop them. On and on they continued, driving Jenefer mad.
“Shite!” she hissed.
The fire had burned low again, but she was too distracted to bother reviving the flame. She paced briskly before the hearth, wondering what ailed the infant and why its nurse couldn’t stop its infernal cries. How hard could it be?
Jenefercould stop them.
And she would, if only she could get to that chamber.
The Highlander had posted himself on the other side of the door, so that wasn’t an option.
She glanced at the shuttered window. He’d warned them not to leap from the ledge. But what if she could climb out and make her way to the adjoining window?
It was risky. But risk had never stopped her before. Besides, she was getting no sleep. It would be worth the risk if she could stop the babe from crying and close her eyes for more than a few moments at a time.
She carefully unlatched and cracked the shutters, wincing as the volume of the babe’s wails increased through the opening. But when she looked over her shoulder at her cousins, they dozed on. She poked her head out and peered at the adjacent ledge, perhaps a dozen feet away.
Pulling her head back in, she tugged hard on the shutter to test its strength. It didn’t budge. If she could tie a rope to the latch, she could swing over to the second window.
Stirring the fire for light, she scoured the room for rope. There was none.
Then she narrowed her eyes at the bedlinens. Those she could use.
Disgusted by the way her cousins were still snoring through the heartbroken laments of the babe, she was tempted to yank the sheets out from under the lasses and dump them on the floor.
But she knew Hallie wouldn’t approve of her daring plan. So she eased the linens out from around them, inch by cautious inch.
The babe was still wailing when she managed to tie two of the sheets together. She knotted one end and secured the other to the shutter latch. Then she payed the linens out over the ledge.
Casting one backward glance at her cousins, who were blissfully unaware of her machinations, she heaved herself up onto the ledge.
The air was still icy, and the Highlander’s leine provided scant comfort from the chill wind. But she would be swift.
Giving one last testing tug on the sheets, she carefully lowered herself out the window. Bracing her bare feet on the stone wall, she made her descent, hand over hand, until she reached the end of the cloth, gripping it just above the knot.
It was tempting to drop the several yards to the ground. It was a long drop, but she was fairly sure she could manage it without breaking her ankle.
Still, she’d given her word to Hallie she wouldn’t try to escape. And she was a lass of her word. Besides, she wouldn’t leave her cousins defenseless against the Highlanders.
With a determined breath, she began swinging her legs forcefully, moving the rope of sheets back and forth along the ledge. She couldn’t make too many passes, lest the fabric tear on the stone.
Fortunately, though it took half a dozen swings and cost her a few scrapes on the rough sandstone, she finally managed to swing close enough to hook her foot on the ledge of the second window.
For one awful moment, she hung suspended between her fists on the taut linen and one straining ankle. Then she managed to work her second foot onto the ledge. From there, she inched forward until she could balance on the ledge with both feet.
The window was shuttered and latched. Of course. There was no graceful way to steal into the room. She would have to knock on the shutters and hope someone came to open them.
Shivering as a gust of wind blew under her leine, she pounded on the wood with the back of her fist.
No one came to the window. The babe wailed on. Perhaps she couldn’t be heard above its cries.
