He lifted her down, stealing a kiss along the way, then ensured the saddles were snug and ready for a swift departure.
They crept toward the house, keeping to the cover of the six-foot-high hedgerow separating this property from its neighbors, rather than strolling up the dirt path where they might be seen. The brown garments Tommy had chosen for them made them almost invisible in the dappled shadows.
As they drew closer, the ring of rosebushes encircling the house came into view, just as Tommy’s maps had indicated. Because it was a crisp, spring day, most of the windows were wide open to let in fresh air. It took no time at all to spot Mr. Throckmorten and Mr. Durbridge, who were smoking cigars, clinking their glasses together, and laughing uproariously.
“In their cups,” Graham muttered.
Drunken culls could be a blessing or a curse. They were less likely to think clearly or quickly, butmorelikely to react with violence and without fear.
“Stay here,” he whispered to Kunigunde. “I’ll enter through an empty room, grab the pot, and jump out a window.”
“How can I guard you from so far away?” she whispered back.
Yes. Exactly. Now that they were in place, Graham found he did not wish to put her in jeopardy.
She narrowed her eyes. “If this is some protect-the-helpless-princess tripe, it isyourhandsome chest into which my throwing knives—”
“All right.” He took another peek at the house. Kunigunde was right. She had useful talents. If hedidn’tcome out that window, she’d need to know why. “Follow me. When we reach the rosebushes, keep low enough to stay out of sight and close enough to hear what happens.”
“You’ll enter through a window in the next room?”
“I’ll enter from the next floor, if I need to. While you’re crouching behind the rosebushes, can you still see in their open window?”
She tried it and nodded. “Here is what I will do. As soon as I see you reach the doorway, I’ll make a ruckus. Mr. Throckmorten and Mr. Durbridge will rush to the window to see what’s happening, leaving the table unattended.”
“Perfect. I’ll grab the pot and disappear the same way I got in. How will you get away?”
“As you leave the room, I’ll wave my arms in front of my face and scream, ‘Bee!’ That won’t be enough for them to discern an accent. Once they realize I’m not a threat, they’ll lose interest in me.”
“Run.They might not notice the missing pot right away, but if they do, they’ll give chase.”
“Where will you be?”
“Right behind you. I’ll meet you at the horses.” He dipped his head to give her a searing kiss that left them both breathless. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
Keeping below the crown of the rosebushes, he made his way around the house until he found the empty dining room. He vaulted over the rosebushes and in through the open window without making a sound. With luck, this would be simple.
He crossed the dining room and hovered to one side of the open door, listening for movement in the corridor.
Nothing.
Satisfied, he strode briskly but quietly toward the gambling parlor. He couldn’t risk creeping along and being spied in the act by a maid.
Chuckles and bluster spilled from the open door to the parlor. There was no sense tarrying, but he didn’t want the men to spy him before Kunigunde did.
Graham stuck the toe of his boot into the doorway.
Nothing happened.
Of course. Too low. She was peering through the rosebushes. She could not possibly detect movement below the level of the windowsill.
He poked his elbow past the doorjamb.
A horrendous, piercing shriek filled the air.
Chairs scraped and footsteps clattered toward the open window. Unfortunately, it sounded like only one set of feet.
Nothing for it—this was the moment to act.
