Finally forcing the latch free, she eased up the sash, glancing over her shoulder at the lump that was Martha as the wood scraped and slid.
Martha’s snoring continued unabated, rhythm undisturbed.
Breckenridge had seen the glance. “Is there someone there?”
The question reached her as the barest whisper. She nodded and leaned on the sill so her head was level with his. “Yes. A large and strong maid, but she’s sound asleep. Those are her snores you can hear.”
He listened, then nodded. “All right.” Then he frowned. “Where did you get her — the maid?”
“My captors — Fletcher and Cobbins — are working for some man who has employed them to bring me to him, but said employer has instructed them to provide me with every comfort along the way. Hence Martha. She was in the carriage when they grabbed me.”
No matter what else one might say and think about him, Breckenridge most assuredly was neither stupid nor slow.
“Your abductors have provided you with a maid.”
She nodded. “To see to my needs and lend me countenance. Fletcher, the thin, wiry one — he seems to be the leader — actually said so while introducing me and Martha to the innkeeper. They’re calling me Miss Wallace.”
Breckenridge hesitated, then asked, “Is there some reason you haven’t told the innkeeper your real name and demanded his assistance in escaping Fletcher and company?”
She smiled tightly. “Indeed there is.” She told him of Fletcher’s story, the tale of her guardian, Sir Humphrey, her supposed flight to the wicked streets of London, and the letter of authority Fletcher had, presumably, forged.
When she finished, Breckenridge remained silent for some time.
Heather peered over the sill, confirming that he was indeed clinging to a lead downpipe, one booted foot wedged on a support. Given his size and undoubted weight, gaining that position, let alone maintaining it, had to be counted an impressive feat.
If she’d been in a mood to be impressed.
Which made it even stranger that every last iota of her incipient panic had vanished. Raising her gaze, she met his eyes — found him staring, then he looked deep into hers. Then he blinked, shook his head slightly, then eased a hand from the pipe and beckoned. “Come on — time to leave.”
She stared at him, then looked over the sill again — at the ground far below. “You have to be joking.”
“I’ll keep you before me and steady you down the pipe.”
She looked at him. He’d steady her down the pipe by holding her against him, trapping her body between his and the pipe? The notion. . made her inwardly shiver. “I haven’t got any clothes — Martha’s lying on them.”
His gaze dropped to her throat, bare, then lower, to the coverlet she’d wrapped about her. “You’re naked under that?”
His voice sounded strained. Or was it disbelieving?
“Just my chemise, which, as you no doubt can imagine, is as good as naked.”
He briefly closed his eyes, then opened them again. His expression had grown a touch grimmer. “All right. In that case, go out of the door and I’ll meet you downstairs—”
“The door’s locked, Martha’s sleeping with the key, and although I could pick the lock, I suspect I’d wake even her — and even if I didn’t, do you really think I should risk bumping into some sleepless bumpkin downstairs
He actually thought about it.
“Besides, I haven’t told you all of it.”
His eyes narrowed, as if he suspected her of playing some game. “What haven’t you mentioned?”
She ignored his look and related the instructions Fletcher had been given. “So he could have seized any one of the three, or perhaps five, of us.”
Breckenridge frowned uncomprehendingly. “So? In terms of ransom, any one of you would do.”
“Yes, but if this employer was merely seeking to ransom me, why take me out of London? Why go to all this trouble and expense? Why provide me with a maid? None of that makes sense.”
Breckenridge hesitated, then said, “The maid makes sense if the reason he’s kidnapped you is to force you into marriage and so get his hands on your dowry.”
“True. But if that was his aim, then his orders don’t make sense — anyone who made even the most superficial inquiries would readily learn that while Eliza and I have inherited considerable wealth, Angelica hasn’t. She wasn’t born when our great-aunts died, so she missed out on the inheritances.” In her eagerness to explain, Heather leaned even further forward over the sill.
Breckenridge, with the knowledge of her all-but-naked state high in his mind, would have liked to ease back, but there was nothing but thin air behind him. He had to mentally grit his teeth, not so figuratively gird his loins, and bear with her naked nearness.
“So you see,” the bane of his life continued, utterly oblivious, “that can’t be the reason behind the abduction either.” Her eyes met his, held them. “Whatever the reason, if there’s any chance of learning the truth of it — learning if there’s some continued threat against not just me but Eliza and Angelica, perhaps Henrietta and Mary, too — then I have to go along with Fletcher and company, at least while matters continue as they are and I am under no immediate personal threat.”
She was presently under more personal threat from him than from her captors. The realization made him wince, an expression she saw and took to signal his understanding.
Reaching out from under the coverlet, extending one slender arm, she briefly touched his hand where it gripped the windowsill. “If you would consent to take a message home for me, let the family know that I’m in no immediate danger, and that I’ll send word the instant I get free?”
He looked at her. She actually thought he would. . “Don’t be daft.” He glowered at her. “I can’t leave you like this, in your captors’ hands, and simply drive away.”
He studied her, wondered how much she weighed, wondered if he dared risk—
She must have sensed the assessment in his gaze; she straightened, took a step back, and leveled a finger at his nose. “Don’t even think of grabbing me and hauling me away — not now, not ever. I’ll scream bloody murder if you so much as lay a finger on me.”
She seemed to realize he’d accepted that. Her stance softened. “So if you would take a message—”
“I’ve already sent your coachman back with a message for your father, telling him you’re being driven up the Great North Road in a coach, and that I’m following. I suspect that if they don’t hear from us within a day, your cousins will start tracking us.”
Folding her arms, she frowned at him. After a moment, she inquired, “Does that mean you intend to follow me onward?”
“Yes.” He spoke — whispered — through clenched teeth. “Naturally. I could hardly let you be taken God knows where.”
“Hmm.” Her gaze on him, she seemed to ponder, then offered, “All right. Here’s what I’m planning to do. I’ll interrogate and extract everything I can about their employer, his orders, and his motives from Fletcher, Cobbins, and Martha, enough at least to determine what the threat to my sisters and cousins might be. Then I’ll escape. If you’re still close, you can help me.”
She paused, her eyes on his, clearly waiting for his response.
He knew what he felt like saying, but. . she had to come with him willingly, and Stubborn was her middle name. “Very well.” The words were an effort. He considered, then said, “I’ll send word back to London, then follow the coach onward, staying close.” He met her gaze, his own ungiving. “I’ll need to meet with you every night.” He glanced toward the maid, still snoring in her bed. “Clearly that shouldn’t be too difficult, even if we have to meet like this. Once you’ve learned what you feel you need to — immediately you do — you’ll leave with me and I’ll escort you back to London. When the time comes, I’ll hire a maid, so it’ll all be above board.”
She considered for a moment, then allowed, “That sounds an excellent plan.”
He bit back a sarcastic retort; she never reacted well to such rejoinders from him. He nodded. “Close the window and go back to bed — I’ll see you tomorrow.”
