“Back, back,” the agent hissed with an urgent shove.
“What is it?” Connor asked when they returned to the landing.
“There are guards posted at the bottom of the stairs. Let’s try the main staircase.”
Unfortunately, there was a light moving below and once again they melted into the shadows. A pair of sentries were stationed at the bottom of each stairwell.
“Did my brothers bungle it?”
Connor hadn’t expected Rutledge to post guards around a property that wasn’t his own. On the other hand, the duke’s informant remained unidentified. If it was one of the servants who had revealed Piper’s presence, it made sense to be on alert.
If it was one of them…
Fury rose in him. That person would pay dearly for their betrayal.
Temple shook his head, a muted silhouette in the darkness. “No. They went out the window and along the roof to the east end of the manor an hour ago. Perhaps Rutledge is naturally suspicious or planning a search at dawn?”
“Or he suspects me.” Connor swore aloud. “Nae point debating it. What do we do now? I cannae see Piper shimmying down the drainpipe.”
“This way.” Piper yanked on his hand.
“The duke’s rooms are in that direction, lass.”
“I know.” She tugged insistently as the light grew brighter in the central stairwell.
Connor followed her with Temple in their wake as she rushed down the corridor. Her journey along the passageway yesterday hadn’t seemed nearly as long. Even with her heart in her throat and her face hidden in the pile of towels she’d carried as they’d walked a gauntlet of strangers, her mother’s strident commands drifting up from below. Now, that same distance stretched a mile more. She feared her mother’s door would open, or the duke’s would, before their flight was finished.
She dashed into the marquis’s chamber and heaved a sigh of relief when Connor closed the door behind them. “We’re nae better off trapped in here. Rutledge will wake soon enough wi’ the chaos below.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she scoffed and found her way along the wall to the hidden door next to the fireplace. Flipping the latch, she swung it open.
Temple went through, testing the constricted width with outspread arms. “These are not servants’ stairs.”
“No, these were put in by the fourth marquis to secret his mistress from floor to floor.” Piper slipped past him, holding the handrail of the narrow stairway tight as they completed the first rotation in the inky gloom.
Connor rolled his eyes. Next to the sins of Piper’s mother and Rutledge, infidelity was the worst in his mind. One shouldn’t make a vow they couldn’t keep. “Would we be so lucky to have had him build a passage to secret us out of the manor, as well?”
“Unfortunately for us, the marquis’s mistress was his housekeeper,” Piper admitted as they reached the bottom. “This is where it ends.”
Temple cracked the exit into the housekeeper’s hall and yanked it shut with a curse. “Stay here.”
He slipped through the door like a wraith, leaving them in the black passage. Connor felt Piper’s shiver and wrapped his arms around her. “Dinnae fash, lass. All will be well.”
“I hope so.” His heart beat against her ear, slow and steady, while hers felt as if it were dancing a reel behind her ribs. How could he remain calm? “We could wait in here until they disperse. No one beyond a handful of servants knows of this stairwell.”
“Ye dinnae need another prison. Ye need an escape.”
“Or a fight,” she reminded.
“Rutledge has already proven he’ll no’ take on a fair fight. He terrorizes those weaker than himself.” A sigh lifted his chest and the soft brush of his lips ruffled her hair. “A man like Rutledge sees a woman as something to conquer. He disnae see that in surrendering his heart to a lass, a man finds his greatest strength.”
“Connor, I—”
A dim light heralded Temple’s return. “There were two patrolling the hallway. Two more are circling the courtyard.”
Temple opened his jacket and withdrew a pair of Webley Bull Dogs and handed one to him. The revolver was no bigger than his hand, made to be concealed in a pocket, or in an intelligence agent’s case, a discreet holster. Connor swore under his breath. He’d been hoping they could do this without things getting messy.
He checked the drum. It held a mere five bullets.
