She tasted the salt on her tongue and smelled the freshness in the air but try as she might, she could not forget where she was, what she was. The more time she spent with the marquess, the cloudier her thoughts became. Never had she thought of anything but the ocean, her father, her ship. Why did he have to make her think about responsibilities and reputations and how a lady should and should not act?
A lady would never climb down a wall and walk barefoot through the sand. She was sure of it.
When they’d arrived in the late afternoon, the light was still strong enough to see the side of the building. It faced out over an ocean still turbulent from the recent stormy weather and was constructed of mismatched stone. Hopefully it would provide the footholds she needed to drop down to the roof below.
Even if her door hadn’t been locked, she couldn’t risk leaving by way of the corridor. She also wouldn’t give Trelissick the satisfaction of thinking he’d caught her escaping.
All was dark now but she would have to be very quiet and very careful. The barns were to the rear of the building and, so far as she could tell, the kitchens, tap and bar stretched across the opposite side from her room. She hoisted up her skirt to undo her petticoats and sighed with relief when they floated about her ankles. She stepped out of the fabric, dropped the hem of her gown and then picked the petticoats up and hid them beneath the bedclothes. If Trelissick happened by earlier than he’d promised, then perhaps he would think her asleep and leave her in peace.
Perhaps he should have consented to the walk when she’d asked him. His answer had been drivel about the dark, the rain, the waves crashing down on the sandy beach. “It is too dangerous.” “Someone might recognize one of us.” “The day has been trying enough.” He’d practically driven her to climbing down the outside of the building.
With one more glance out the window into the dark, she threw her leg over the sill, balanced on her bare toes, then lifted the other one out. Slowly, she felt around with one foot and then the other, lifted one hand and then the other, confounding her outer skirt to the bottom of the ocean with her earlier thoughts, until she felt the solid expanse of cold slate beneath her foot.
From there she lay on her stomach and inched back over the side of the roof, hoping that what she dangled from wasn’t the kitchen or a dining-room eave. Though it was dark, a body hanging in front of a window would be easily seen and the alarm raised.
After what felt like hours, she finally stood on solid ground, her body flat against a windowless wall as she caught her breath. Thank God she hadn’t landed in a rose garden or woodpile.
The moon sat low and full in the sky as light clouds sped towards the opposite horizon and lit the path between the trees to the ocean. Not hesitating a moment longer, Daniella broke into a run to cross the yard and only slowed when she thought she would be hidden beneath the tree’s thin canopy.
As she walked in the direction of the crashing waves, the sound so familiar she wanted to cry, she wondered where her father was, what her brother was doing, whether they searched for her or not. She kept thinking Anthony should have caught up to them by now and, though she had no intention of going anywhere with him, she was desolate to think he wasn’t coming. That no one was coming. Even worse was the feeling she deserved it. All of it.
Her life was so wildly out of control and she had no choices left to her to gain it back. A chill settled on her arms and, as she crossed them over her chest, her toe caught the edge of an exposed tree root impossible to see in the dark. She stumbled. Before she could fall in the dirt, one strong arm snaked across her middle at the same time a hand closed over her mouth.
Her first thought was to kick out, to scream and throw her body weight away from her attacker. But then she sagged with relief. Her father had come at last.
*
To crow his victory would have been far too loud but it’s what Patrick wanted to do. Just as he wondered how he was ever going to get Daniella away from Trelissick, she fell right into his arms.
“Don’t struggle, lass. Will ye scream if I take my hand away?”
She shook her head, her mouth curving into a smile against his hand. He dropped it away and pulled her off the path behind the trunk of a large tree.
As soon as he stepped away from her, she came towards him and punched him in the nose.
“What did ye do that for?”
“You could have told me you were one of my father’s men,” she huffed, holding her hand and
