Free The Dark Enquiry by Deanna Raybourn Page B

you are quite mistaken. Now, jump!” There was no mistaking the authority in his tone, but still I hesitated.
    “Julia, if you do not jump by the time I count to five, I will come back and throw you across. One. Two.”
    I jumped. Being dashed to death on the street below was preferable to any punishment Brisbane might think to apply, I decided. And at the next house, he only had to count to one before I leapt. By the third, I was crossing side by side with him, although I still felt a trifle giddy at the height. Thus we proceeded down the street, walking softly over rooftops. It was too early for the servants to be settled into their attic beds for the night, but we took no chances. To my astonishment, I began to rather enjoy myself. I would not let myself think on the horror of Madame’s death, but in this moment, I was a real part of Brisbane’s investigation, a true partner in detection, and I almost laughed aloud as a sharp river breeze caught at my wig and snatched it off, loosening my hair from the pins.
    Just then we came to the end of the last house, and I realised what I ought to have seen before—there was no easy way down. I peered over the edge of the roof far down to the cobbles of the darkened street.
    “Brisbane? What now?”
    He motioned for me to climb onto his back again and I did so, squeezing my eyes shut once more and cursing myself for a fool for ever thinking this might be enjoyable.
    He proceeded slowly, but as we descended, it became clear that it was a much more difficult thing for him to make his way down with me attached to him like a monkey than it had been to climb up. The momentum alone should have torn him from the wall, and I saw the effort it cost him to keep us safe as the muscles of his shoulders and arms corded tightly.
    At last, we reached a small bit of coping and I was able to slide from his back as he held on to a piece of ironwork. I gulped in great draughts of fresh air—or what passed for fresh air in London—and pondered our next move.
    Suddenly, Brisbane reached out and grasped me high up on the arm and swung me free of the wall. My boot tips brushed the stone, and I stifled a scream as I looked up into his eyes.
    “Trust me?” he challenged. There was a grim purpose there, but something more, some animal vitality that the evening’s adventure had roused in him. He was a man thoroughly within his element.
    “I trust you,” I vowed.
    And then he dropped me.

The FIFTH CHAPTER
     
    You tread upon my patience.
     
    —Henry IV, Part One
     
     
    Before I had a chance to scream out in surprise, I landed upon a soft pile of wool, newly shorn and smelling warmly of lanolin and bound for the mill in a wagon. A second later, Brisbane landed almost directly on top of me, crushing me down into the soft wool beneath.
    “Brisbane, that is the second time in our acquaintance that you have done such a foul thing. And you are crushing the breath out of me. Remove yourself,” I remarked coolly, attempting to recover my sangfroid . I knew his little trick was to get back a bit of his own after I had bungled my way into his investigation, and I took it with good grace. I deserved far worse, if I was honest.
    He slanted me a smile. “Oh, I think the situation offers up some very interesting possibilities.”
    I shoved hard against his shoulder and he heaved a sigh before levering himself off of me. “Pity,” he murmured, and I felt my own lips twitching in response. He rolled away and we spent the next quarter of an hour lying very quietly and collecting our breath. I longed to ask him a thousand questions, but just when I opened my mouth his eyes sharpened and he rose, pulling me hastily to my knees.
    “Quickly. The cart is preparing to slow down for an omnibus. Wait, now, just until it stops. Here we are then, over the side,” he ordered, pushing my backside until I obeyed, landing solidly on the cobbles with Brisbane hard after.
    “Where are we?” I demanded. We were on a