The sun shone down hotly on his back as they snuck through the gardens of Kerr House. They hid behind shrubberies and slunk around hedges when they heard a servant, a guest, or gardeners nearby, each pause in their flight giving them further reason for concern.
“Mary,” he whispered as they ducked behind a rosebush.
“Shh!” She frowned at him.
His conscience gnawed at him. He must get this out now. “Mary!” he hissed.
She pressed her index finger against her lips in a gesture for silence.
“I am sorry, Mar—”
“Not now, Gabe,” she whispered in return before scurrying along the trellis and into the recessed doorway leading into the back parlour.
“I must speak to you.” He followed her into the doorway.
Ignoring him entirely, she pressed a hand to the glass of the French-style door and looked within.
“Mary…”
Her head shot around as she pinned him with a fierce glare. “Shh!”
He missed her playfulness. Yes, they were attempting to make their escape from an estate full of traitors who would all most assuredly kill them on the spot if they knew who they truly were, but the Mary he had once known would have found humour in their current circumstance. He, half nude and bleeding, her in a scanty costume, her breasts all but entirely nude, crouching and scurrying through the garden… In all probability, if they were spotted they would be branded insane and thrown in Bedlam.
He must have laughed, for Mary stared at him wide-eyed and angry. “Shh!”
She put her hand to the latch on the French doors and pressed. The doors swung open on silent hinges and they both slipped into the nauseatingly pink floral parlour.
The house was abuzz with activity, but gratefully none of it was in the parlour. Pots banged and dishes clanged in the kitchens, the sound echoing through the halls.
There was no hiding his state of dress, but Gabe straightened his shoulders and wore his blood with pride as they strode through the corridors to their guest bedchamber. Good fortune was with them, and nary a single person saw them en-route.
Gabe and Mary both released a sigh of relief as the door closed and locked behind them. The room was bright—and still so startlingly puce—and the air was warm from the low burning fire.
Mary turned to face him, tossing a dark green clump of fabric to the ground. It must be theclearlymissing portion of her costume. “You dolt!”
“I beg your pardon?”
She huffed an exasperated breath at him then turned to retrieve her trunks from beneath the bed. “You are silent all across the hills and fields until the precise moment that weneededto be silent.Then, of course you decide it’s the perfect opportunity for you to strike up a conversation with me.”
Gabe found his own trunk that he’d packed that morning, and placed it atop the bed, flipping open the lid. “I meant to apologize, Mary,” he said defensively. “You did an admirable job of rescuing me, as difficult as it is to admit to requiring a rescue.”
He carefully removed the documents from his balled waistcoat pocket and gently placed them in the hidden compartment at the bottom of his trunk.
She released a barked laugh of true mirth. “Ha! I slapped you, Gabe. I pulled your hair and beat you. You believe that to be admirable?”
The corner of his split and bleeding mouth curved up in a grin. “I admit that you could have been a little lighter with your abuse, but such a display in that particular circumstance was necessary. Unfortunately. You did precisely what was required of you in order to gain my freedom. You could easily have barged in with guns held high and killed the lot of them, but it would have blown your cover and ruined our chance to discover who their contact is. This way, you maintained the illusion of your innocence, which will benefit you later.”
Mary demurely nodded her head as she fastened the buckles of her trunks. “Thank you for saying that, Gabe.”
He was momentarily distracted by the gentle sway of her breasts as she tugged on the leather straps.
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps you ought to change…”
She looked down at herself and laughed. “Oh, yes. Of course.”
Mary fled behind the privacy screen and Gabe released a breath in a silentwhoosh. His conscience had been weighing on him and he felt lighter after having apologized.
He quickly strode to the washbasin and splashed some cool water over a washcloth and began to wipe himself down. He had just completed washing the blood off his face when a thought struck him.
