Page 92 of A Night of Forever
She clenched her fist, and almost winced as a hairpin dug into her palm. Then an idea struck her. Hairpins. She could leave a trail. Would he see them? Would he understand their meaning? It was unlikely, but she had to try.
Victoria cracked the door open, peered into the dark corridor, and then beckoned with the pistol. As Isobel preceded her down the stairs, she wished Marisa had given them a room on the very top floor, as it would have taken longer and given her a greater chance of the men hearing them trying to leave. When they moved quietly past the closed door of the drawing room, she heard the men’s raised voices.
If only someone would see her.
They had reached the kitchen when someone did. Without any warning at all, Mrs. Clarke stepped out of the larder and into her path.
The housekeeper started to smile, and then noticed Victoria behind Isobel.
“Run!” Isobel mouthed.
But the startled Mrs. Clarke was still taken aback. Before Isobel could do anything, Victoria pushed her out of the way and punched Mrs. Clarke hard in the temple. The woman dropped like a stone and hit the floor with a crash.
“One sound,” Victoria hissed, “and I’ll shoot her.”
So Isobel stayed where she was, silent and still, until once again Victoria beckoned her forward. The men would find Mrs. Clarke. Mrs. Clarke would tell them of Victoria. God knew what they would make of it—or what Arend would believe.
When should she start dropping the pins?
The men would realize Victoria had entered through the cellar. She wouldn’t begin her trail until they were underground.
The last thing Isobel wanted was for Victoria to know they were aware of the tunnels’ existence. Therefore, when Victoria gestured her through the cellar entrance underground, Isobel made sure her stepmother heard her gasp of surprise.
“Not so clever, are you?” Victoria sounded smug. “Your precious Libertine Scholars don’t know about the tunnels. The servant must not know either, as no one has used them since we were alerted to your arrival. She’ll think we went out the back door.”
So they had used feathers.
When they entered the tunnel it was completely dark and smelled of dankness. When Victoria lit a lantern, Isobel saw that a set of steps led from the cellar to the floor of the tunnel. A few feet further on, the tunnel split and went off in two directions.
It was after Victoria ushered her down the last step onto the dirt that Isobel dropped her first pin. She dropped the second pin only a few footsteps later, when they took the left tunnel. She tried to score a heel in the floor to leave a trail, but the dirt was too compact.
How on earth would the men think to look for her tiny little hairpins?
But they were all she had.
—
The plan, Arend decided, with satisfaction, was solid.
Philip would take up position in the kitchen near the cellar, with two of the Runners outside the front door—to prevent an escape that way—and another two at the back. Maitland would sleep on the landing in front of his and Marisa’s room. Sebastian and Hadley would be hidden in Arend’s room with him. Marisa and Isobel would be safe in the attic room above.
After tonight, if Victoria’s people entered the house, there would be no escape.
He, Sebastian, and Hadley accompanied him up the stairs.
When they reached his room, he stopped at the door. “Wait here. I’ll make sure Isobel is decent.”
The words had hardly left his mouth when there was a cry from Philip downstairs. All three men exchanged tense glances.
Then Arend flung open the door shouting for Isobel.
But the room was empty and Isobel was gone. Nothing had been disturbed. There didn’t appear to have been a struggle. It was as if she had just walked out.
“No.” Anger and hurt battered at his heart. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t.
“She’s gone.” Sebastian shook him. “Arend, Isobel’s gone. Come on. Philip’s calling.”
His heart crumpled in on itself and on a bitter laugh, he turned and followed the others downstairs.
