A cry choked above them.
Henry’s stomach plunged as he jerked back his head to see Juliet dangling by one hand, her feet scrambling against the stone, every kick useless.
Parker uttered an oath beneath his breath, backing up with a stilted limp. Henry dropped into a crouch, arms outstretched,calculating the distance. The thought of her falling—of those clever hands slipping, that lovely neck snapping if he missed.
No. He tensed. He would catch her!
God, please let me catch her.
Her half boot found purchase. A desperate push, a wobble, and then—
She was climbing again.
The breath shot from his lungs, fury fighting with relief. “Juliet,” he whisper-growled. “Climb down here at once!”
She didn’t even glance at him. She simply held up one finger, shushing him.
And then climbed higher.
Chapter 30
This might be a bad idea. Maybe her worst ever. But something niggled in Juliet’s gut, urging her upwards. The weak protests floating out the open window had to belong to Charity. She’d stake her life on it—and in fact might just be doing that very thing by clinging to this rickety vine. Still, this was the only way to know for sure. Besides, if she did fall, Henry’s strong arms would catch her.
And then he’d blister her ears with a scolding.
Taking great care to avoid such a fate, she tested each handhold with a little tug as she climbed onto the ornamental ledge. The carved limestone seemed solid enough beneath her half boots, but not so strong that she’d give up her grip on the wisteria. Plus, it wasn’t that wide. She edged sideways on the balls of her feet, fear a constant hum at the back of her mind. Thankfully, prayer no longer felt like a desperate plea—it was simply the air she breathed, steady and sure. Her trust certain that no matter what, God held her soul securely in His hands. Oh, how much she’d changed in the past few months!
She inched her way to the window.
Inside, a broadsided nurse in a light grey gown and white apron stood in front of an iron-railed bed, her back to Juliet. Her ample hips blocked the patient from view, but Juliet could make out the restless shift of movement beneath the white sheet.
She leaned closer.Come on, Nurse. Move!
A sharp whisper rose from below. “Juliet!” Henry grumbled. “Get down here this instant.”
She winced. He wouldn’t be put off much longer. Knowing Henry, she wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he was contemplating how to scale the wall to drag her back down.
Still, she held her ground. The west wind picked up, sending a stray curl whipping over her brow. It tickled her lashes, blurred her vision, but she dared not brush it away. Instead, she blew a quick breath upwards, blinking as her eyes watered.
Below, Henry growled another warning.
And then—at last—the nurse shifted, her heavy heels scritching across the floor as she turned towards the medicine cabinet.
Juliet’s breath caught. The woman in the bed came into view—golden haired, wrists bound to the iron rails, blue eyes fixed on hers in startled recognition.
Charity.
Her mouth opened, poised to speak, but Juliet pressed a quick finger to her lips. If Charity warned the nurse now, that window would be slammed shut before she had a chance to get inside.
A sharp movement below drew her gaze. Henry watched her, his face a thundercloud, his arms crossed tight.
She met his glare, mouthing an exaggerated “I found her.”
He pointed firmly to the ground, his meaning unmistakable.
Yes. Climbing down would be a wise idea. She’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. A proper lady wouldn’t even be in this situation to begin with.
And yet …
