Page 58 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
Where was he?
For the briefest moment, she wondered if it had been he coming to her room—but she dashed that thought aside. If it had been Benedict, he’d have spoken to her through that little gap rather than remaining silent.
Whoever it was didn’t want to give themselves away.
“What now, Pom Pom? The view’s very pretty, but we can’t stay here forever, can we.”
She dropped to her knees again.
Might there be another ledge, like this one, round the corner? She hadn’t paid attention to such things when she’d been walking outside. If there were, maybe she could climb from this one to the next and keep searching for an open latch.
However, shambling forward to the corner, she saw only a sheer drop on the perpendicular wall.
As for what lay below the ledge she was on, there was nothing helpful—only laurel bushes and a downward pipe.
Hell and damnation!
Frowning, Rosamund inspected her own side. The ledge wasn’t completely flat, but sloping outwards somewhat, and there was a small grating just above the pipe. Presumably, besides being decorative, the ledge and balustrade was acting as a sort of gutter, and the rainwater ran into this corner, being carried off down the pipe.
Leaning over, she looked down. The drainpipe appeared sturdy.
It had been an age since she’d scrambled up and down the trees back home, but she’d been so good at it. She’d never fallen, anyways.
The hardest part would be getting over the balustrade and making contact with the pipe. After that, it ought to be plain sailing—and there were the laurels to break her landing if it proved slippery.
Unbuttoning her jacket, she moved Pom Pom to face her chest and tucked his hind legs inside.
With one armholding the puppy still and the other hooked around the pipe, Rosamund slid to the ground—albeit unceremoniously. The last half of the way, her left bootlace came untied and her boot slipped off altogether, landing in the bushes ahead of her.
Fortunately, neither of them seemed the worse for the escapade.
Despite everything, Rosamund couldn’t help feeling triumphant.
The world might be against her, but the part of her childhood self that had been unafraid to climb the grandest old oak in their yard was still fighting strong.
She recovered her boot and tied the laces on both sides more securely. With Pom Pom on his own four feet, they set off away from the house, heading for the closest trees. There, she moved into the shadows and, crouching low, pulled Pom Pom close.
No one seemed to be following but, looking back to the window of her room, she was sure someone was there, half-hidden by the curtains.
Who, she couldn’t tell, though they appeared tall.
Had they seen her?
The curtains twitched and the figure moved away.
“Best not go in the direction of the main drive, Poms, just in case.”
Behind the folly, there was a smaller track. Benedict had mentioned it being used only by tradesmen from the village. It would make sense to go that way. She’d be less likely to be seen.
The sun had all but disappeared to the west now, leaving the moon to light her way as she skirted through the trees, doing her best to stay out of sight.
Reaching the bottom of the lake, she breathed easier. No one could possibly see her this far away. Still, she remained cautious, crouching through the higher grass of the meadow as she came round towards the folly.
And then, from the dark recess of the little temple, she saw a wink of light.
Suddenly, her pulse was racing. It was surely Benedict. Only he would think to meet her here.
Had it been him at her window?
