Free Dark of the Moon by Karen Robards Page A

wood, firmly latched.
    Then, through the tiny crack that separated the two panels, she saw a narrow dark line. The latch! If she could just find something thin enough to fit through that narrow space, and strong enough to pry up the hook . . .
    Knowing that Connor could return at any instant, she quickly searched the room, and at last found what she sought on the littered surface of the mahogany desk: an elegant silver letter opener! Grasping her prize, she ran back to the window. Its blade was just a trifle too wide, but she managed to wedge it into the opening by holding it in her left hand and using the heel of her right hand as a hammer. Finally she had it positioned, its point just below the latch. Holding her breath, she forced the letter opener upward. After much maneuvering, the point of the letter opener caught the center of the latch. The latch slid up, then with a faint clatter fell back against the shutter outside. She pushed at the shutters, and they opened with a creak of rusty hinges.
    She found herself looking over the side of the house toward the way she had come. On the horizon Donoughmore Castle was silhouetted against the nearly dark sky, black and huge as it brooded high above. Caitlyn looked down, saw that the yard around the house was shadowy and deserted, and swung her leg over the sill. It was a goodly drop, but she had survived worse.
    Hanging by her hands from the sill, she let herself fall to the ground. Hitting on the balls of her feet, she staggered forward, caught herself, then dropped into a low crouch. After satisfying herself that she was unobserved, she was off and running. Toward what she didn't know; she only knew that she had to get away.

VIII
    For two days Caitlyn was forced to lie low. The d'Arcys had bands of peasants scouring the countryside for her. Connor himself rode with Mickeen and Cormac back down the road they had traveled the very night she disappeared, and twice a day thereafter. Caitlyn had hidden in the ruined Casde the first night, and as one day and then the next passed with no apparent letup in the search, she was afraid to leave it, afraid that she would be taken up by Connor along the road or by his minions in the fields. She thought it was best to let the pursuit die down a litde before making her way back to Dublin and the life she had always known.
    Her one regret was that she would have to leave Willie behind. First, it would be foolhardy in the extreme for her to try to contact him; the d'Arcys weren't stupid. It was likely that they would be expecting that. Second, Willie had undoubtedly learned her true sex by now. She could not count on him to keep her secret indefinitely if he returned with her to Dublin. Willie was a guileless lad. Sooner or later he was bound to let the cat out of the bag. And then she would be in trouble indeed. But she would be lonely when she went back, and that was the truth.
    Hunger and boredom were her worst problems as she whiled away the hours until she considered it safe to leave. Fortunately, a trio of hens had also chosen the Casde as a likely roosting spot, so she was able to steal their eggs, which kept her from total starvation. Raw eggs were not the tastiest meal she had ever had, but they were not the worst either. Water was not a problem. It rained for several hours each day, and big puddles lay everywhere.
    During the daylight hours she stayed high up in the ruined tower. That first night, frantic to find a hiding place while Connor's bellowed curses rang in her ear (he had missed her almost at once, and his rage at her escape had echoed from the hills), she had scrambled up the hillside toward the Casde without ever really even thinking about it. She had just reached the crumbling walls when Mickeen had run up almost direcdy on her heels to summon the peasants from their shacks to aid in the search. Leaping over the rubble of stones as nimbly as the sheep had earlier, she had crouched in the shadow of the wall, peering