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Authors: Lynsay Sands

BOOK: The Husband Hunt
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Chapter Three

A
great loud snoring woke Lisa from sleep. Scowling at the annoying sound, she turned over in bed and then scowled again as she bumped into something hard. Bet’s elbow she saw, opening her eyes. What the devil was Bet doing in her bed? She had her own room in the servant’s quarters. She—

Stiffening as memory flooded back, Lisa sat up abruptly and peered around the room. It was small and mean looking with little more than the bed in it and four bare walls. One wall held a window covered with dark drapes and one had a large, solid door.

Sucking in a breath, Lisa slipped her feet to the floor and stood up, alarmed to find the room doing a slow spin around her. When it stopped, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and moved slowly around the bed toward the door. Reaching it, she grasped the handle and twisted it, disappointed, but not terribly surprised when it turned but the door didn’t open. They were locked in.

Swinging back to the room, she crossed to the window and dragged the heavy drapes aside. Sunlight poured in through the opening, splashing the room with stark light and bringing an end to Bet’s loud snoring. There was the rustle of material and a muttering from the bed, but Lisa ignored it for now and considered the view out the window. They were on the second floor, overlooking the alley along the back of Mrs. Morgan’s terraced house. Reaching out, she pushed upward on the window, relieved when it slid up with just a whisper of sound.

So, the window wasn’t bolted shut or anything. That was good, Lisa thought as she eased it closed again. Probably because they were on the second floor. Climbing out and getting down to the ground wouldn’t be easy if it was even possible. One or both of them could fall and be badly hurt. But they could hardly stay here and just await whatever fate Mrs. Morgan had in store for them either.

Lisa sighed unhappily. She’d thought Mrs. Morgan was her friend, had liked the woman a great deal.
Had
being the key word. At that moment, she thought she could snatch the woman bald. How dare the old cow drug the tea and lock them in this room for . . . well, whatever it was she had planned. Lisa had some vague recollection of the mention of a suitor. And a doctor to examine Bet before she was sold. But it was all rather fuzzy and hard to recall exactly what had been said.

“What the bloody hell?”

Lisa turned back to the room to see Bet sitting up on the bed and gaping around with confusion. That confusion was quickly replaced with a scowl that she turned on Lisa.

“I told you the old bitch wasn’t a proper lady. What have ye got us into here?”

Lisa ignored the maid’s cuss. Bet never cussed, and she supposed her doing so now was a result of the dire situation they found themselves in, so she merely said, “Come. You may berate me later if you wish, but right now we have to get out of here.”

Bet scowled, but climbed off the bed and flounced toward her, muttering, “Well, ye’d do better to try the door then. We aren’t climbing out no window.”

“The door is locked,” Lisa said quietly.

“Brilliant,” Bet proclaimed and paused beside her to peer out the window. Her scowl immediately turned to dismay as she took in their situation. “We can’t go out this way. There’s naught to hold onto but brick and nothing to break our fall.”

Lisa frowned. Bet had just verbalized her own worries, but after a moment, she turned to survey the room. “We shall have to make a rope.”

“With what exactly?” Bet asked dryly.

She hesitated, but then brightened and said, “Do you remember that story I read to you about the dastardly Lord Haroway who kidnapped Lady Laticia to have his wicked way with her?”

“Oh, aye, that was a good one,” Bet said with a small smile. “He done some wicked things to her, all right. Ravished her good and proper.”

“Yes, but then she escaped out the window using a rope she made from—”

“Bedsheets,” Bet interrupted with a grin and turned to hurry to the bed. By the time Lisa caught up to her, the maid had pulled away the heavy comforter and begun dragging off the linens. “Dear Lord, these are filthy.”

“Yes, well, perhaps the filth will make them stronger,” Lisa said with a grimace, bending to help her.

“Gor! We were actually laying on these,” Bet said with dismay. “We’ll be crawling with fleas now . . . or worse.”

“Yes,” Lisa said with a sigh and took the top sheet to begin rending it into strips.

“Gad . . . the trouble you get me into with your shenanigans,” the maid muttered, rending the bottom sheet.

“Don’t blame me for this,” Lisa protested at once. “You were the one who blackmailed me into bringing you along. If not for that, you’d be safely at home now.”

“And where would ye be if I hadn’t?” Bet asked sharply, continuing her work. “Kidnapped and forced into prostitution.”

“Well, I still am. It’s just now we’re both—prostitution?” she squawked as the word sank in.

“Well, what did you think she meant about suitors and a doctor examining us?” Bet asked dryly. “It’s like that other book ye read to me. The one with the youngest daughter of that Baron who was kidnapped by a madam and forced to . . .” She paused, her eyes wide. “Dear God! We’re living that book right now, we are. Kidnapped and locked in a room, awaiting a man’s pleasure to come ravish us. Oh, Lord save us,” she breathed. “It’s like she read the book too.”

“She probably did. She is the one who gave it to me,” Lisa said unhappily, her mind on the ravishing part. A suitor to ravish her . . . and she
was
the youngest daughter of a Baron. Dear Lord, it
was
like the writer was writing about her before it had happened. Seeing the alarm on Bet’s face, she forced her own disturbing thoughts away and straightened her shoulders. “We will escape.”

“Aye,” Bet muttered and both of them began to work more quickly. Within moments they’d finished tearing their respective sheets into strips and started weaving and knotting the strips together to make one long slightly knobby makeshift rope.

“The window,” Lisa said as soon as they tied on the last strip. She started to lead the way holding half the rope while Bet carried the other, but nearly fell flat on her face on the first step. Muttering under her breath, she shifted her part of the rope to one hand and bent to scoop up the heavy comforter with the other and toss it back onto the bed. Straightening, she then hurried to the window. Bet trailed her with the rest of the rope.

“What’ll we tie it to?” Bet asked with concern.

Lisa hesitated, but then glanced around the room. The only thing available was the bed. Mouth tightening, she hurried back to it, grateful it was close as she quickly knelt to tie one end around one foot of the bed.

“Will it hold?” Bet asked uncertainly.

“It shall have to.” Lisa straightened grimly and slowly unfurled the rope as she moved back to the window. Once there, she handed off the remainder of the rope to Bet. “Right, tie the end around your waist.”

She waited just long enough to see Bet nod and begin to do as she’d ordered, and then turned to quickly open the window. Much to her relief, it slid silently up and stayed in place. By the time she turned back, Bet had finished tying the rope around herself.

Lisa smiled encouragingly. “Now, sit on the ledge and swing your feet out, and then use the rope to lower yourself out the window. When you reach the ground, untie yourself and I shall pull the rope up to use myself.”

Nodding, Bet settled on the ledge, but then frowned and said, “Maybe you should go first. Yer—”

“You wouldn’t be here if not for me, Bet. Now just go. Quickly,” Lisa insisted, pushing on her arm gently.

Bet didn’t look happy, but did shift her legs out the window and then ease herself out to hang from the ledge. Pausing there, she glanced to the ground below and muttered, “I hope there is enough rope.”

So do I, Lisa thought, but didn’t say as much as she quickly threw the rest of the rope out the window. She then smiled encouragingly and waved at the maid to lower herself.

Sighing, Bet removed one hand from the ledge to grasp the rope and then did the same with the other. There was immediately a loud scraping sounded behind Lisa as the bed began to slide across the floor under the sudden weight. She instinctively grabbed at the rope to keep the bed from moving further, then gasped, “Go, quickly.”

“But what about you? How will you—”

“I shall have to wait here while you fetch help,” Lisa interrupted, in a panic to get the girl going. If anyone had heard the shifting bed and came to investigate . . . “Just hurry, Bet.”

“But who do I fetch?” Bet asked, eyes wide with horror. “Lady Christiana and Lady Suzette are out to tea, and—”

“Go to Lord Langley’s. Bring him, just be quick,” she hissed, and groaned as her arms began to strain. “Please, go, Bet. I cannot hold this much longer.”

The maid looked like she wanted to argue, but nodded grimly and began to lower herself out of sight. Lisa immediately closed her eyes and tried to ignore the ache beginning in her arms as she waited. It seemed to take forever before the weight she was holding suddenly eased. Lisa had begun to lean back, using her weight to help her hold on, and nearly fell back when the rope suddenly went slack. However, she managed to keep her feet.

Dropping the makeshift rope with relief, she moved to the window to lean out and watch silently as Bet hurried away up the alley. She then quickly dragged the rope back into the room and closed the window.

Lisa gathered up the rope as she moved back across the room. She untied it from the foot of the bed and then glanced around uncertainly before just stuffing it under the comforter. She started to straighten, but then had a thought and quickly bent to spread the thick, knobby rope about, fluffing the comforter around it as she did. Once satisfied with her effort to make it look like Bet was still asleep in the bed, she then began to pace, counting off in her head how far along Bet might be in her efforts to get to the Langley townhouse and Robert.

The problem was she didn’t know how long it would take. She hadn’t even thought to look around for her reticule to give Bet money to hire a hack, but didn’t see it now anyway. The girl would be on foot. Would she have the sense to hire a hack with the promise of payment on arrival at Robert’s? Or would she try to get there on foot? Dear God, if the girl didn’t hire a hack . . . well, Robert might not get here in time, Lisa realized with dismay and turned to move back to the window, debating the merits of tying the rope to the bed again and climbing out herself.

Perhaps if she moved the bed up against the window . . . But that might make a lot of racket and bring people to investigate. She could always just tie the rope around her waist, hold on near the top and slide out the window. That way if the bed scraped across the floor it would only lower her halfway down the wall and then she could climb down the rest of the way. Surely she’d be on the ground and free before anyone was drawn by the racket the moving bed would make? She—

Lisa paused, her gaze shooting to the door as she heard approaching footsteps. For one moment, she froze, but when she heard a key rattle in the lock, she moved toward the door, hoping to block the view of the bed with her own body. Lisa had nearly reached the door when it opened, but paused a few steps away when Mrs. Morgan appeared in the opening.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. It’s time.”

Alarm clutched Lisa at that greeting, and her mouth was dry as she squeaked, “Time for what?”

Mrs. Morgan merely tilted her head to glance around her toward the bed. “Bet’s still sleeping I see.”

“Aye,” Lisa murmured, struggling not to move to the side to block her view.

Mrs. Morgan shrugged. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She drank that tea rather greedily. Ah well, the doctor isn’t here to examine her yet anyway. Now, come along. We have to get you ready.”

“Ready for what?” Lisa immediately asked as Mrs. Morgan caught her arm and urged her to the door.

“For your suitor.” Mrs. Morgan smiled and for the first time Lisa noticed that it was rather toothy, almost wolfish.

“I don’t wish to . . .” Lisa’s voice faded to silence, her eyes going wide as she was pushed out into the hall. She found herself facing a rather tall, huge bald man with quite the most unpleasant face she’d ever seen.

“This is Gilly,” Mrs. Morgan announced cheerfully as she pulled the bedroom door closed behind them and locked it once again. “If you give us trouble, he will have to help bathe and dress you.”

“Oh,” Lisa breathed, wide-eyed, and then swallowed any further protest and allowed herself to be led up the hall, very aware that Gilly was directly on their heels.

“M
y lord?”

Robert lifted his head off the back of the chair and opened his eyes to peer at the man addressing him from the door of his office. Mosby, his butler. Raising one eyebrow in enquiry, he asked, “Yes?”

“There is a . . . lady, and a gentleman enquiring to see you,” the man said with an air of doubt that suggested perhaps the lady wasn’t a lady at all, the gentleman not a gentleman, and Robert wouldn’t wish to see either of them. “They are still on the front step if you’d care to look out and decide if you wish to be ‘in’ or not.”

Robert allowed his second eyebrow to rise at the suggestion, but then stood and moved to the window to peer curiously outside. His office was at the front of the house with a bay window that looked out onto the street. He peered through the gauzy curtain at the figures on the step and frowned. Robert hadn’t a clue who the great, round fellow was on his front step, but the female looked vaguely familiar. It looked like Lisa Madison’s maid, Bet, he thought, and then tugged the curtain aside to get a better look at the woman.

The much clearer view simply made his frown deepen. The young woman was so pale her freckles stood out in relief. She was also wringing her hands almost desperately, and shifting nervously from foot to foot despite the obviously tight hold the man had on her arm.

“Show them in,” Robert said letting the curtain drop back into place.

“As you wish,” Mosby said calmly, though there was an undertone that suggested he thought this a very bad idea indeed. But then he often disapproved of the things Robert did since he’d moved to town. He suspected the butler felt he should be finding a wife and producing an heir to continue the Langley line. It’s what everyone seemed to think he should do. But Robert just had no intention of doing that, so they could all just continue to disapprove all they liked.

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