She lowered herself from the balcony and tried to gauge the distance between the soles of her feet and the ground below.It was hard to do so in the darkness, but she reckoned the duke’s home would have been constructed with some adherence to standard measurements.Which meant she probably had no more than a yard.
With this in mind she released her hold on the balcony and prepared to meet the ground.
It was unexpectedly rigid and narrow, sending her slightly off balance.Pain shot toward her right knee as she stumbled, attempting to find her footing.A gasp brought air into her lungs, bringing with it the realization that she’d landed on steps leading down from the terrace instead of the even surface she’d been expecting.
Eyes squeezed shut, she allowed herself a moment in which to adjust to the ache pulsing through her right leg.It must have twisted when she landed, but since she was here now, in Wrengate’s garden, she’d have to find a way past it.
Another gulp of air made it possible for her to block out the inconvenient discomfort and straighten.She flexed her leg gently, rotated the ankle a few times, and decided she’d manage.How Adrian would respond to her injury was a matter she’d deal with later.
She started forward, keeping close to the house as she searched for an easy entry point.The sash windows would prove a challenge.Prying one open would cause a fair bit of damage and let the duke know there had been an intrusion.A locked door would be easier to pick, so she paused next to the first one she found, a side entrance that offered access to a small covered terrace with just enough room for a bench.A closer inspection of the area revealed a small pot that held a collection of burnt-out cheroots.It appeared this was where the duke, or someone else, came to enjoy their preferred brand of tobacco.
Unwilling to waste precious time, Samantha reached for the door handle, her arm pressing against the door’s glossy surface as she tested to see if it might be open.A careful turn of her wrist and the resistance she found informed her it was locked.
She reached under her hood and retrieved a couple of hairpins, then dropped to one knee and went to work.Thankfully, she was able to do the job with her eyes shut.No need for light, just a trained hand and the knowledge of how a lock was built.It took only a few seconds for her to work the mechanism.
The lock clicked into place and Samantha released the breath she’d been holding.She tried the handle again and the door eased open.Once inside, she pulled the door shut then paused to allow her eyes time to adjust.It was darker in here since there were no windows.As far as she could tell, she’d arrived in a short hallway, most likely leading off the main one.No doors were visible either, so she’d have to make her way forward and pray she didn’t encounter a servant.Or the duke.
Wary of such a possibility, she angled her head and listened.A clock ticked somewhere nearby but beyond that, all was silent.Eager to do what she’d come to accomplish so she could return home, Samantha moved forward with a silent tread.Her knee ached but she gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore it.This wasn’t the first time she’d been injured, and the pain sure as hell wasn’t much when compared with being shot.
She halted at the corner of the hallway and peered toward the front of the house where the stairs swept upward from the foyer.Two doors stood to the right.If the duke’s home had a typical layout, the one closest to her would be the study with the one nearest the front door opening onto the parlor.
A slow inhalation steadied her breath and calmed her nerves before she proceeded toward her goal.Her hand found the doorknob as a soft squeak shot between the ticking sounds from the clock.She froze, pulse leaping to warn her of possible danger.Muscles tight and body stiff, she remained utterly still as she listened.
This time there was a creak and then the soft tread of feet on the stairs.
Samantha sucked in more air, her lungs tight against her now-racing heart.She could not, must not, be found here.Good lord, it would wreck all chances of figuring out what Wrengate was up to.He’d be on his guard.And that was without considering all the charges he’d press against her.And possibly Adrian.
She had to get out of this blasted hallway.
The footsteps produced a dangerous rhythm that warned her she’d soon be discovered.Sweat beaded against the nape of her neck.Her skin, encased in fabric from head to toe, felt clammy.She pressed down gently against the handle and nudged the door open.
It creaked against the hinges.The footsteps upon the stairs paused.Samantha bit back a curse.
“Your Grace?”The voice belonged to a woman.It sounded older so maybe it was the housekeeper making her rounds?
Unlikely, based on the hour.At past two in the morning all servants should be asleep.Only this one clearly wasn’t.And while Samantha briefly wondered why, she decided the question was pointless.She was seconds away from being revealed by this individual and potentially having to fight them off as she fled.
Hoping to avoid a confrontation altogether, she shoved the door open and entered the room, then pulled the door shut behind her and locked it.However little time she’d bought, it would have to do.
At least the room appeared to be the right one.A wide shape silhouetted against the darkness told her she’d located Wrengate’s desk.All she had to do now was find some handwriting samples she could take with her.
Someone on the opposite side of the door tried the handle.Samantha pushed away from it and crossed to the desk, clenching her jaw against the ache in her knee as she rounded the large piece of furniture.A quick glance toward the window behind it assured her she’d have an easy escape route.
The door shook as the person on the opposite side applied force.Samantha scanned the desk’s surface.Finding no papers there, she opened the drawers.Silence settled around her, allowing her a moment of peace.
Whoever the servant was, she’d probably go fetch the butler next.Or wake their master to alert him of a possible break-in.Either way, it granted Samantha the seconds she needed in order to—
A man’s voice punched through the air.Wrengate’s voice.And then the door rattled against its hinges.Samantha grabbed a fistful of papers without any clue as to whether or not they might aid her, shoved them down the front of her shirt, and spun to unlock the window.
The door behind her crashed open before she’d managed to pull up the sash.A swift glance over her shoulder brought Wrengate’s powerful frame into view.The servant standing behind him, who did indeed have a housekeeper’s appearance about her, held up an oil lamp that lit the duke from behind.
With his face cast in shadow, it was impossible for Samantha to see his expression, but the low growl he emitted while staring toward her was ferocious enough to inform her that he was mad as hell.
“You,” he seethed, nearly causing her to forget her face was concealed.
He’d no idea who she was.Just that she’d broken into his house.A common thief as far as he knew.Provided she left at once.
Her fingers closed more securely around the bottom rail of the window.She pushed upward and felt her stomach drop in response to the tough resistance that met her effort.The window wasn’t budging.
